Life!
by fazy
Summary: Male Pregnancy Fic. Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy................... COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, no nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Fic summary: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully...  
  
Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
// ... \\ indicates a person's thoughts.  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Legolas bit his lower lip. How long since the pains... //No, it's just a stomach upset\\, he told himself firmly, even though he knew it wasn't. //Only a stomach upset. Nothing more.\\ Looking down at the fine spread before him, he felt what was left of his appetite vaporise. He wasn't hungry. No, he wasn't hungry at all.  
  
Fear gnawed at his heart, but still he refused to let his mind so much as pause to acknowledge its cause. Instead, he reached out for his goblet and downed the remainder of its contents in one huge gulp, hoping against hope that the cool sweet wine would drown the apprehension that sat like a stone in his chest. It didn't work. Anxiety was getting the better of him. His hands were still shaking.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he wrenched himself back under control, and wilfully projecting a false appearance of outward calm, he forced himself to take a few bites of freshly baked bread. At one end of the table sat the King of Gondor, and at the other, his Queen. To his right was Gimli, and Elrond was to his left. But though he was surrounded by his companions, Legolas had never felt so suffocated. They knew him so well, so intimately, that the slightest blunder on his part would give the game away.  
  
And everybody would know.  
  
Another wave of pain swept through him, mild, though dreaded enough to make him blanch white. //Oh, help me Elbereth! What am I to do?\\ he thought, tottering on the verge of panic as his fears once more threatened to overcome him. Taking a shaky breath, Legolas passed his fingers over his eyes in obvious distress.  
  
The silence was deafening. All chatter at the table ceased, and Legolas could feel their eyes boring into him. No doubt they were worried. No doubt he had be behaving queerly these past... how long had it been? But no, Legolas refused to let his mind wander down that route. No. Even though their intentions were good, they were unwelcome. Heartily unwelcome.  
  
Reaching for his napkin, Legolas dabbed at his mouth and stood up, mumbling something about a headache and fled, not caring that it was against the etiquette. All he wanted was to get away from those relentless eyes. All he wanted was to be alone.  
  
Back in his chamber, he tumbled thankfully into bed, but not before he had safely bolted the door against the rest of the world. Now that he was alone, he could relax. He could breathe freely once again. No more pretence. No more pretence, alone in his chamber. Here he could drop his act.  
  
Except that he didn't, did he? Even in his most private of spaces he refused to acknowledge it, preferring to wallow instead in the bitter bliss of denial. All unbidden, he felt his hand move to rest on his stomach. He wasn't large the way most women grew, thank goodness for that. And thank goodness for the elven robes as well. So although he had no doubt whatsoever that most of his friends suspected something was bothering him, it was unlikely that they had guessed what is was. He had kept it secret.  
  
Up till now.  
  
Legolas bit down hard as wave after wave swept over him, each one slowly getting more intense. //NO!\\ he screamed in his head and buried his face into the pillows. //No, this is NOT happening to me! No. NO!\\  
  
Not for the first time, he felt the tears of helplessness rise but this time he did not try to fight them. Let them come. Let him cry. He didn't care anymore. Abandoning himself to the moment, Legolas wept with abandon. Why was this happening to him? Why? Why! What had he done to deserve this? How. Yea gods, and HOW?! He wasn't a woman, for goodness sake. How could this be? This couldn't be. It was a bad dream. Just a bad dream. Yes, that's it. This was just a bad dream, and anytime now he would wake up. He would wake up. He would wake up.  
  
//Elbereth, please let me wake up.\\  
  
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Whoopee! Look! Finally, a fic by fazy which does *not* revolve around sex! Haha. Well, if you exclude the YGO songfics and the short spoofy one about the durian tree. =D But yup, this is a non-explicit fic. A totally safe read, if you exclude the male pregnancy bit. *evil grin*. Later on, we'll have a little bit of Faramir/ Eowyn, but as I said, nothing explicit. At the most they'll share a kiss or two. And since I'm a Boromir freak, we'll have Faramir remembering his big brother Boromir. ;P  
  
Short chapters all the way. At least, that's what I'm predicting. Actually a chapter break would be more like a large paragraph break, but ff.net doesn't do double line breaks so there! =D  
  
Pls R&R. 


	2. chapter 2

*Enter MovieLeggy (the real, proper PJ one played by Orlando Bloom who is SO NOT PREGNANT and never ever ever will be) wearing a long-suffering expression*  
  
Beta-Reader: Hi Legolas! What's up?  
  
MovieLeggy: Being slandered, apparently.  
  
Beta-Reader: Oh, shut up and read fazy's disclaimer. You're fun to bully.  
  
MovieLeggy: *grabbing bow* What?!  
  
*fazy looks up and sees Movieleggy and smiles wickedly*  
  
fazy: Hi Movieleggy! We were just talking about you!  
  
*fazy waves, then ducks to avoid a stream of eggs, flour n rotten cabbages being flung at her, courtesy of Movieleggy.*  
  
fazy: Awww.. So touchy today?!? I thought Elves were nice, sweet, forgiving people *grins*  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Legolas sat perched at the edge of his bed, watching, as the evening gray splashed streaks of red across the cool stone walls of his chamber. A red sunset... what did that mean? Blood? Yes, maybe. The redness of it all was so oppressive. Red... crimson... he had a sinking feeling that his own life blood would be spilt by morning. He shuddered.  
  
//I'm not ready for this,\\ he thought fearfully. //I'm not ready.\\  
  
Again he felt his body crumple up as his dread got the better of him. Choking back his sobs, he let himself fall limply back into bed. //No,\\ he whispered to his silent pillow. //Not me. Not now. Why? Why haven't I woken up yet?\\  
  
He closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them he would be cast into a different world-- a real world-- but the growing pangs of another contraction abruptly ended his hopeful fantasy. No, there was no other world. Not this time. That was the dream, and this was the reality. And he would have to live with it.  
  
//No!\\ he screamed in his mind. //NO! No, it was impossible, no, no, no, no, yea gods, please no!\\ He flipped onto his back and stared helplessly at the peeling white plaster of the ceiling. "No," he whispered. "No," he said again, more strongly this time in an effort to convince himself. It didn't work.  
  
Turning around, he grabbed at the nearest pillow and pounded at it with his fists. "NO!" he cried, pummelling at the soft fluffiness, desperately attempting to release his tension before it consumed him thoroughly. He wasn't used to this. He was an elf, for crying out loud. He wasn't used to being bested by his own misgivings. He couldn't deal with this!  
  
Part of him wanted to fling the pillow vehemently across the room and just scream his frustration to the universe, but his breeding refused him even that. He was too proud an elf to stoop so low. No, Legolas could not afford to throw a childish tantrum. He would never be able to look himself in the glass again if he did.  
  
A knock at the door, and a whispered voice. Someone muttering under their breath... Legolas shook his head to clear his mind and focused on steadying himself. It would not do to let himself slip up now. More banging, and a strong voice this time, telling him-- no, ordering him-- to open the door.  
  
But Legolas did not want to open the door, did he? No. He wanted to be left alone. "Go away," he whispered wretchedly. "Just... go away." He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it but the incessant pounding refused to stop.  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn barked, and Legolas shuddered to hear a touch of irritation in the voice of a usually sedate man. No doubt Aragorn was getting impatient of standing outside knocking. "Legolas!"  
  
Legolas buried his head beneath his pillows and covered his ears in a futile effort to make Aragorn leave, but it was a silly, childish gesture and Legolas knew it. He wished that Aragorn would just go away. He didn't know if he would be able to look the Man in the eye and lie to him outright, but he couldn't bear the thought of Aragorn knowing the truth. Some things were better left untold.  
  
"Legolas, if you don't open up I'm going to have to break this door down," Aragorn said firmly. "Now are you going to let me in or not?" Legolas squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and willed him away. "You're not going to open this door?" the dreaded voice came again. "Legolas?" Still Legolas did not respond. "Are you sure?" Silence, as Legolas kept himself as still as possible, hoping against hope that it might just cause time itself to freeze.  
  
Outside, Aragorn sighed. "Alright then..." he trailed off, and for a moment, Legolas allowed himself to hope. Perhaps Aragorn had given up and gone off in search of more productive things to do with his time. He was after all, a busy man, and there was more to kingship than sitting on a throne looking prettily butch all day.  
  
Within seconds however, Legolas heard a muffled thud, followed shortly by another, stronger thump. Aragorn was throwing himself at the door. He might hurt himself trying to break down that door, or at the very least bruise his shoulder getting it open, and Legolas had not the heart to let that happen. Not when Aragorn was doing that out of concern for him.  
  
"Alright, stop it," Legolas said at last. "Stop. I'll open the door."  
  
For the first time in his long elven life, Legolas truly learned what it was like to feel his age. He closed his eyes. Fists which barely minutes ago were tearing at the feather pillow now came to bunch in the silky material as another agonizing wave swept over him more potently than the last. The pains were getting stronger and more powerful, and again he felt the fear bite deep. What if it got stronger, and stronger, until it was so unbearable it drove him insane? What if he lost his mind? He could just see it now: Legolas of Mirkwood driven crazy by... but no, no. Hundreds of women of all races gave birth every day, and they didn't go insane. What reason had he to think it would happen to him?  
  
But it was already happening, wasn't it? He was already loosing his mind to the fear. More than ever, Legolas felt he was fighting a loosing battle. He felt vulnerable and out of his depth in such women's matters. Oh the pain, the fear, it was tearing him apart, and yet he had not the strength left to fight it. His entire being felt weary and frail, stretched out like an already thin and tearing threadbare piece of cloth forced too often through the wringer.  
  
Oh yea gods, what reason had he to have believed that he would ever find himself in such a fix in the first place? Males didn't get pregnant. They shouldn't. It was unnatural, and here, Legolas smiled in spite of himself. That phrase always reminded him of the hobbits, and of Samwise in particular. 'It was unnatural.' Heh. That odd little gardener always held anything his old Gaffer was against to be 'unnatural'. It was endearing, and Legolas chuckled to himself.  
  
But enough of that. Aragorn was waiting.  
  
Fighting against his fatigue, he dragged his weary limbs over to the door, and somehow or other, managed to muster up enough strength to heave the heavy bolts aside. But it seemed that even that simple action left him drained, for he turned his back on the door and wordlessly retreated back to his favourite seat under the window.  
  
"It's open," he whispered when he was seated, just loudly enough for Aragorn to catch. Legolas felt dead. Even his voice felt dead. Sighing softly to himself, he let his head droop and breathed in relief as his long golden hair fell across his face, a tangible silk screen that hung about his features, softly shielding him from the rest of the world.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
Legolas looked up to see Aragorn kneeling before him, his face a twisted mask of emotions. "Legolas... tell me," he began, his voice gentle but strained. "What the.. what were you thinking?" he sighed standing up abruptly, his annoyance steadily increasing. "Headache?" he cried, and laughed incredulously. "What do you take us for, a bunch of pottering idiots? Elves don't *have* headaches. Do you have any idea what we had to do to keep Elrond himself from bounding up after you!"  
  
Turning his back towards Legolas, Aragorn clenched his fists and barred his teeth to the wall, releasing his pent-up frustration before turning back to Legolas. "My apologies. I should be concerned-- I *am* concerned, but... why didn't you tell... how could you... don't you have the slightest idea how worried everyone is? Did you think we would just leave and not care if we knew that something was bothering you? After all we've been through together... don't you trust us?"  
  
"You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Try me."  
  
And for a second, Legolas was truly tempted to spill his heart out to Aragorn. It would be such a relief to have someone else know about his condition, someone he loved and trusted and could confide in. Someone to support him and share his burden... But no, Aragorn would not understand. He would try to be kind and sympathetic, but he would not understand.  
  
Instead, Legolas rearranged his features into a joking grimace. "It's just that my father keeps pestering me to get married," he lied. "And I can't seem to get it off my mind. Even when he's not actually here I feel him... silently tormenting me." He grinned and sighed. "He's always been such a... a... *strong* presence in my life. I can't shake it off, though goodness knows how much I want to."  
  
He felt Aragorn's gaze drilling into him. There was no way Aragorn would be convinced by such an incredible tale. After all, his relationship with his father had never bothered Legolas before. What right had he to think Aragorn would believe that it bothered him now? No, he would never be able to fool Aragorn.  
  
Legolas shifted uncomfortably. A heavy silence now hung over them, the silence of a confidence suddenly snapped. He was lying and Aragorn knew it. He had never lied to Aragorn before, and towering before him, the King of Gondor did not look pleased. //Aragorn is disappointed in me,\\ Legolas thought brokenly. //Bitterly disappointed. I can see it in his eyes.\\  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn began, his voice strangely devoid of emotion, but before he could proceed with his interrogation, a page knocked respectfully on the wide-open door and bowed deeply.  
  
"My liege, King Eomer of Rohan would like a word with you."  
  
// Thank the Valar!\\ Legolas thought, grateful for the distraction. Already he could feel the beginnings of another contraction, and he honestly did not think he could hide it from Aragorn this time. //Let him leave now. Please.\\  
  
"Can it not wait?" Aragorn sighed, much to Legolas' dismay, but the page simply bowed in reply and said nothing. Legolas wanted to cry out-- the pains were growing-- but still he forced himself to keep his face as serene as he could. //Go away!\\ he begged in his head. //Elbereth, oh please, let the page bring Aragorn away with him!\\  
  
Aragorn sighed and bit his lower lip, torn for a moment between his duties as a leader and his concern as a friend, but quickly came to a decision. He rose and made for the door, and watching, Legolas could have wept in relief. He paused however, in the doorway and turned back to face him.  
  
"Legolas," he said, his eyes gentle and sad. "Remember your friends. Remember that we will always be there for you. Do not shut us out, Legolas. It pains us that you still do."  
  
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fazy just loves to say the word 'Gondor'. It's got a beautiful sound. Gondor. Gondor. Gondor. Fight for Gondor! All hail the Lords of Gondor! Man, people would fight and die for an identity like that. FOR GONDOR! FOR GONDOR!!! FOR GONDOR!!!! Man, that was random. Haha. But Mel asked where the story was set so I went to edit the little fic summary at the top, cos I didn't realise it didn't say, and the last thing I typed was Gondor, and man, I love that word!  
  
Anyway, thanx for the reviews guys! *hugs reviewers happily* You know, initially I wasn't sure whether I should just write this as a single chapter fic and leave it as that, but so many people either asked for or assumed there will be a continuation that I went ahead developing a proper plot. Haha. Well, the story was already thought of actually, just waiting to be written, but chapter 1 was so nice just like that that I seriously thought of making it a stand alone thing. *grinz*  
  
Oh, and just in case there are any outraged moms/ medical students who want to bash my head in for not doing my research, Legolas' 'fatigue' doesn't come from the labour. It's supposed to be because of the emotional drain which then translates itself to an actual physical weakening of the body as he feels his strength gradually leaving him.  
  
Okay, ON TO THE REVIEWS!!!!  
  
Cheysuli: yay! Thanks! *hugs Cheysuil* Yupyup. There will be more. A *lot* more.  
  
Mel: whoa, deep man! Haha. Well, I guess the way orlando played him in the movies, there are only 2 ways to read movieleggy: as a sad product of bad acting skills or as a privet elf with a complex personality and one heck of a psychology. And since bookleggy IS kinda cool and mysterious, I'd give orli the benefit of the doubt and say he acted well, eh? *grinz* Lets see. who the father is? Well, that may be a bit difficult. I'm trying to figure that out myself. He wont tell me, the little bastard. ;D But no, you can rest assured that its certainly not Aragorn. I'm more than a little sick of Legolas/ Aragorn slash. Its been done to death, and if you ask me, they don't make that cute a couple ANYWAY. Haha. And while I cant see him creating a child with a random person he does not trust either, he didn't exactly expect to actually *ahem* create a child, did he? *double grinz* (((I like the fact that the story so far does not revolve around sex.))) yay! Me too! *grinz* About the time period, I've kinda edited the fic summary at the top. Thanx for the feedback! You rock man! *hugs Mel*  
  
Christina Miller: *fazy shrugs* man, I gave you guys a chapter warning. It says loud and clear in both the summary AND the chapter warning that the fic's about male pregnancy. If you think its so sick, why force yourself to read this junk anyway?  
  
farflung: YAY! ME TOO! Haha. Well, usually I like it, tho sometimes it grosses me out as well. And YES, I do think its SUPER satisfying. Only in fanfic can we get our revenge! Muahahahhahaaa! Aw, scrap the 'revenge' and replace it with 'gender equality' will ya! It'll sound more politically correct that way. =D And I dunno about you, but I'd love to see movieleggy freak out. Yes, I'm sick and evil. Sue me! ((( Now of course we want to know who, where, when and what sex the baby is and how many babies there will be.))) who... you gotta wait fer that. I have an idea who but I'm not sure if I should use it cos of the plot twist, or maybe I shall, but the idea of a Mystery Father does have its appeal as well... where, in Gondor... you'll get a more precise ans when the time comes *grinz* (hint, hint. Think of title. Then think of cycle of life. Bearing in mind they're in Gondor. Guessed yet?) ..... what sex, well, oh, it never occoured to me! Darn, gotta sleep on it. Thanx for pointing it out tho... and how many babies? Well, one. It's bloody rare to get elven twins, isn't it? And if they do then it's a huge big whopping thing. No way I'm gonna tweak Tolkien like that! *fazy pales and slithers towards the door*  
  
Ivory Novelist: YAY! Sure! Thanks for dropping by, am really glad u liked it. *hugs Ivory* And haha, a pretty bit does happen to him. c",)  
  
Haldir's Heart and Soul: sssh! He's not telling me, not yet. Well, I have a faint suspicion of who the father might be, but we gotta wait till his kid's born for a sorta visual confirmation. Features, and the like. Hair. Sorta. Well have to see what happens.  
  
Potter41: Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes, I'm writing some more! Haha. But I'm getting the fic beta read so it might take some time between chapters. Especially since my beta's busy with her maths project at the moment...  
  
Das Blume: haha! Thanks man! And yeah, now it has a second chapter. ;D Hopefully it's as acceptable as the first. I did address in one major plothole in the first chapter tho, the fact that elves dont have headaches. Haha. Oh well, we live and learn... =D 


	3. chapter 3

Bookleggy: What? Another chapter?! Have you no shame? You are blatantly infringing international copyright laws! Don't you realise that we are the intellectual property of our creator (mayherestinpeace) and that intellectual property is just like any other property?! How dare you!  
  
fazy: Where's Movieleggy? And since when were YOU in the picture?  
  
Bookleggy: Since my movie counterpart came whining to me. As to where he is, he's over there, sulking in a corner. *Movieleggy glares at fazy over Bookleggy's shoulder.*  
  
fazy: *glares back* Well he's just upset cos I didn't write him as a sexy kick-ass hero with a swarming fan base of starry-eyed girls.  
  
Bookleggy: Ah well, and then there's that too...  
  
fazy: O_o'  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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"Legolas... Remember your friends. Remember that we will always be there for you. Do not shut us out, Legolas. It pains us that you still do..." Long after Aragorn had left him there, shut up in his private chamber, the Man's words still echoed resonantly in his head. "We will always be there for you... We will always be there for you..." Again and again, it played itself in his head. "... We will always be there for you... Legolas, we will always be there for you."  
  
//Why do I still feel so alone then?\\ Legolas wondered miserably. He longed to reach out and catch the hand already outstretched to him, but something held him back. Stubbornness probably, and pride. Oh his cursed pride! He could not bear the thought of the others knowing. He could not bear to face the mockery he felt certain of finding even in his most dearest of companions.  
  
//If any of the hobbits saw me right now, they'd laugh their socks off, only they didn't have any socks to start with\\, he thought glumly and braced himself as another contraction came and went. //If *any* of the fellowship saw me they'd laugh. They'd think me pathetic. And I can't blame them for that.\\  
  
He thought of Aragorn again, Aragorn who was ready to enter the chamber forcibly out of concern for one he thought of as a friend. Aragorn wouldn't laugh, would he? No, not likely, it wasn't Aragorn's style, but he would be sad and sympathetic, and that was even worse than being laughed at. Legolas didn't need pity. And he didn't need to be judged either.  
  
The hobbits... Aragorn... who else was there? Gimli. Dearest Gimli. But the thought of sharing it with Gimli terrified Legolas no end. What if the dwarf looked upon him with contempt and revulsion once he knew about him? What if Gimli thought him degenerate? He was sure that Gimli had always had a very pristine image of Legolas in his mind. What if... But no, Legolas could not even bear to think about it. He treasured his friendship with Gimli too much to risk loosing him with one ill timed confidence.  
  
And as for Gandalf and Elrond, he would rather die than crawl to them, begging for help. There was no question about it. If the pains didn't kill him first, the humiliation of standing exposed before them surely would, of that much he was certain. No, he could not trust any of them with his dark little secret. There was simply too much at stake.  
  
Legolas lay panting, gasping for breath as another wave passed, temporarily bringing his frenzied thought-speculation to an abrupt halt. He brought his hand to his forehead and was shocked when it came away dripping with sweat. Trembling weakly, the elf stared unfocusedly at his hand, and suddenly fascinated by the play of red sunlight against the shimmering moisture, he rubbed his fingers together and slowly twirled his hand over, watching as the light traced out intricate patters against his fingertips. Perhaps he would be so captivated by the colour he would forget the pains. Perhaps.  
  
Perhaps not.  
  
Legolas bit down hard as another contraction more powerful than the last racked through his body. He gripped the bedsheets tightly and moaned. It was coming more quickly too, with less time for him to distract himself in between, and this time, even after the pains left he lay frozen, his fear paralyzing him more potently than his actual labour.  
  
For awhile, he clung to his pillows in panicked anxiety as a million and one thoughts raced through his mind. His entire body felt numb, as if he was being thawed out after being frozen in a block of ice. He has seen such blocks of ice before; ice which encased a frozen carcass of some dead animal unlucky enough to be caught in the encroaching winter storms. Ice... snow... whiteness... beauty... the soft hush of a forest after its first snowfall of the year, the skies a glittery white kaleidoscope of stars... //Can I wake up now? Please, Elbereth? When will I wake up?\\  
  
And the beauty of it... beautiful, so beautiful was a landscape when it was covered in snow, bathed in the moonlight while the stars shone their cold light upon the mortal earth. But if the fear were the ice that bound him, the pain was as a scorching fire, and for a dreadful moment in time, Legolas lay caught between the two. The heat, the cold both burned within and around him, strong, relentless, and unsympathetic until sheer need forced him to break free of the ice. It was time to confront reality. He needed help. He needed help desperately. Gathering the last of his resolve, he stood up and glared at the door.  
  
It seemed to glare back, mocking him.  
  
Legolas blinked incredulously and shook his head to clear his thoughts, but still he could not rid himself of the feeling of being ridiculed by his own bedroom furniture. //Valar! Were even his personal belongings judging him now?\\ He shrugged. Oh well. He deserved it. Taking a deep breath, he walked the few steps to the door and found to his horror that he had forgotten to slide the bolts back into place after Aragorn had left. What if someone had walked in on him... He covered his face and groaned. Wasn't it was bad enough that he was loosing his wits. Did he have to loose his memory too?  
  
//Elbereth, help me. Give me strength,\\ he murmured, and then drew himself to his full height. Forcing himself to adopt that perfect composure becoming of an elf, he stepped through the door and back into the real world, and so powerful was the strength of his will that Lord Elrond himself might have walked right past him at that point and would not have noticed anything amiss.  
  
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Sorry about chapter 3. I know, I know, its boring and angsty and there's no action and no plot development, I'm sorry. I think it sux too. Thankfully it's short. But it's not redundant so I cant kick it out, that's the problem. It'll explain some of his later actions, but for now it's just boring. Things will start to happen next chapter, I promise.  
  
School has started (boo!) and that means there'll be less time to write (double boo!) so I hope you guys'll be a little patient if updates take a long time. I *will* update eventually, cos I already have some sorta story trajectory and it's just sucky to leave stuff hanging before it's completed. Well, not that I never leave stuff hanging, its just that I hate it when I do. haha. (implies laziness)  
  
Thanks for the overwhelming number of reviews! Meesa really appreciates it. ;D Oh yeah, and guys? I was pretty surprised that nobody asked if there was anything more to Aragorn's little speech. I was very deliberately writing it in such a way it is impossible to confidently point out where and if he uses the royal 'we' to mean himself rather than the fellowship as a whole.  
  
Haldir's Heart And Soul: Me too. *haiz*. As much as I want it to be Haldir, I've got a sinking feeling it's the Man's. darn. I love haldir... or as I prefer calling him, Haldy. Oh, poohey, haldy's probably got better taste than to bed a blonde elf just passing through, tho that's poor comfort.  
  
Mel: Haha. Lord Elrond already does suspect something, Aragorn sed that much in chapter 2. But no, Leg's not gonna go through it all alone. I would tell you who he goes too, but then that would imply that you're not bright enuf to guess from the fic summary, but I'm sure you are brilliantly bright and have already figured it out way before my big hint. Haha. And thanks for the support! *hugs Mel again*  
  
Endurwen en' kalina: yay! Thanks! er... well, if all goes according to plan, Leg himself's gonna be telling you guys that. Well not the Movieleggy that appears at the start before the fic starts. I mean the Legolas in the fic. There will be some weird, wacked-up, pear shaped explanation, but I seriously doubt it'll sit well with most of you guys.  
  
Snowy: yay! Glad u liked it. And yes, I'll be updating as often as possible, but that's a wee bit difficult cos school just started and already I'm getting busy with all the club commitments and stuff. Will try my best tho! *grinz*  
  
dd9736: yay! *grinz* Thanks! That's one hell of a compliment there, and I really appreciate it! *fazy beams* Thanks man!  
  
Anonymous: haha. Well, that certainly is a very biological approach. Haha. But yeah, as I was telling Endurwen en' kalina just now, there will be some sort of explanation later on in the fic. Somewhere really near the birth, tho its so unbearably controversial I'm already bracing myself for flames! Haha! *grinz* oh, and I realise the whole 'impregnated without consent' is really un-tolkeinesque-elf-like, and I would like to declare I have no explanation (either believable or not) so I'd like to ask for a wee bit (okay, okay, a wee LOT) of suspension of disbelief. ;D Too bad for Leggy, Aragorn's busy discussing horses or land ownership or grazing rights or whatever it is with Eomer, the poor sod, even tho all he really wants is to just be there for his friend.  
  
Lembas7: you're probably not even here to read this, but what the heck. Duh, of course males don't get pregnant. And *I*'d probably puke myself if I came across it in real life (puke of shock, not of disgust tho. The guy cant help it if he's different.) Don't like, don't read. And jeez, don't get all judgemental.  
  
Vana E: Haha! Sign me up for EPT. Is there a fan club or something? Well, if they don't, they should have. haha. I'm not a huge fan of angst tho, but if the big 'A' word comes into play as a side effect of the EPT then who's complaining? *grinz* Yeah, well, I'd *love* our elf-boy to really go thru shit but that would stretch the story way too long. It'd get boring. Trust me. 3 chapters of elfy angst is more than enuf for one sitting. And no, he cant die... that'll be too evil, and I'm a good girl. Really. ;P  
  
Celebrian: yay! *hugs back* thanks! Boy or girl? Boy or girl? Boy or girl? Hmmm. I don't know actually. I'm still not sure where the trajectory should end, you see. In my head, it goes on till the kid's a coupla years old. Not *all the way* till it's that old, but a few cuts to maybe 2 or three significant moments before Leg has to face the possibility of loosing it forever or tearing it from it's foster parents, not a very pretty decision, especially since by then both parties love the kid like nuts. Most likely a boy tho. Still undecided, but I have a thing for little boys... I think they're so much more loveable than little bratty girls...  
  
Theodred Prince: er... he had sex? *cheeky grin* haha. *fazy sticks out tongue playfully* Awwww... don't worry. Leg's gonna find himself in very caring (tho rather clueless) hands in just a bit. And actually, if you wanna *really* stick to the point on Healers' Intuition, then isn't Elrond supposed to be somewhat of a telepath as well? Gah, just put it down to plot holes then, worst luck. (  
  
Das Blume: Yeah man! It *is* gonna give way to something worse... haha. Yeah, sure, there's more. I'll be doing up the story proper over the next month or so, not sure about the end of the trajectory tho. I tend to only make up my mind on exactly where to stop halfway through a story. Going on is not a problem, it's knowing where to stop that's the real bugger. *grinz* Yeah, and he's under a tremendous amount of stress, the poor thing, he's terrified of what might happen if anyone found out. And that's not the half of it. He cant be that bright if he didn't think that hiding a kid is more of a killer than hiding a pregnancy.... :D  
  
Legolas 19: Yeah! I'm working on it! Thanx man! *hug*  
  
Um...Name: BEEP! Sorry, wrong guess. Faramir's gonna play a big role, but I'm too big a fan of Faramir/Eowyn. Hehe. But even if it weren't, could it even be possible? They've only just met in Gondor, presumably after the war of the ring when Leg's free to go around the city and Fara's all well again. But then again, by then Fara's neck deep in courtship. Hmmm... how long is the elven gestation period anyhoo?  
  
Gershwhen: Well, Legolas wouldn't let me make him a weepy teenager. He's a poker face stoic elf noble and he'll disembowel me with his knives before I even get to the keyboard. And now it seems he's gotten Bookleggy on his side. =P Anyway, it's the fighting that's the interesting bit. He's always struck me as a fighter. But things are a bit different when you're fighting against yourself.  
  
Brilover: haha. Thanx! And yes, its more than a little bizarre. It's very bizarre. Glad u liked it tho. *grinz*  
  
angelbird12241: yay! Thanks! And yeah, I'm working on it! *flashes thumbs up sign* As soon as I can untangle myself from the bloody schoolwork...  
  
Amy: yay! Turmoil is *good*. Haha. Well, not too much, tho. Next chapter the action starts. I'm getting sick of his angsty turmoil myself. Ho, Boromir? Why Boromir? Gut feeling, romantic notions, process of elimination, deduction, induction, reading into the fic summary? Or is it cos of my other LoTR fics? Hmmm... do enlighten me. Cos you're the first one to ask if it might be him, so I'm pretty curious.  
  
Ivory Novelist: haha. *squee, another update!* ;D But whoa, a cliffie? Man, I never thought of that ending as a cliffie, honest! I saw it as a natural chapter break. You know, what happens before Aragorn and what happens after. Haha. But then again, that's just me. And Aragorn/ Leggy fluff, well, that was just so Aragorn. I mean, there's no way in hell Aragorn would just overlook something like that. he's just to caring n responsible. A good king, overall. Oh, and as for Sweet Faramir, well, read the fic summary. *poke, poke*. Dear Sweet Faramir will figure rather largely next chapter onwards. On the downside, Aragorn *isn't* in the fic summary, so I guess you can see where that's going. But I'm gonna enjoy writing about Dear Sweet Faramir turning going all faint and puke-y-ish when the baby's coming. *wink* Oh, and I hope to goodness you've got nothing about Eowyn, cos she'll be figuring largely as well.  
  
Guardian Elf Angel: Hey, go guard another Elf! Legolas is mine to torment! *grinz* Oh, or wait, are you an elven guardian angel who guards people in general or a general people angel who guards elves... hmmm... ( Okay, answers. 1) its likely a boy cos it'll go better with the post-birth story, but then again, you never know. 2) I have absolutely no idea what it's gonna be called. I'm gonna have to do a bit of research on that. any suggestions? But it's gonna be nicknamed Peredhil by its human foster parents at least, even tho they cant get Leg to tell them if it's a half- elf or not. They certainly suspect it's got man-blood tho, but we never really know if that's true. 3) I have this thing about childbirth. I've been fascinated with childbirth since I was a kid. *shrugs* I actually put many of my characters thru it, tho this is my first (and hopefully only!) Mpreg fic. =P 4) well, from answer 3 I guess we hen deduce that we're never really told exactly who it is. Or rather, we can *guess* who it is but Leg never confirms it. Never. Ever. Oh, and I didn't realise i've been that hard on Leg. I didn't think it was *that* painful, the way I described it. Hmm... maybe I'm more of a sadist than I thought. =S Oh well. About the descriptiveness, I've been reading about it ever since I was young, but recently i actually spent 2 years actually researching it for a separate writing project, you know everything I can from pre-conception to Old Wives Tales to traditional medicines to emotional processes during labour. I *did* find a really cool online site. *fazy plods off to search for site* ah, here it is. www.midwifeinfo.com. It's got a lot of the human aspect of stuff that medical journals don't really go into.  
  
Farflung: Yupyup. Serious denial. But he's snapped out of it, bless him. =P *fazy re-reads review* Whoa. Nurse? Man! *fazy bows down in front of someone more knowledgeable than her* haha. Which Ada are you talking about? Leg's dad or whoever it is who impregnated him? if it's Leg's dad, then whoopee, Legolas, you are SO dead, ada is going to disown you for sure, man! But if it's the kid's dad then... ada might never even know... Can you imagine how humiliating it would be for Legolas to go up to him and go "Er, hi, it's me again. We haven't met for some time. Remember that last time we *did* meet? Er... I kinda went and got myself pregnant, doncherknow, yes, yes, I *know* I'm male, yeeessss I always thought males don't get pregnant too, tell that to Elbereth, whydoncehr, but whatver it is, heh, you're the ada of some kid. Congratulations, and I hope you keep it down on the ada bit, cos I'd rather die than let the whole elven community remember me as the first guy ever to give birth in the history of my people, thankyouverymuch." Haha. I can see him squirm even now.  
  
Anonymous: Posting more now! haha. Well, I'll try to post as frequently as my new term timetable allows. But yeah, that got me thinking. What exactly does the word 'Mother' mean. Does a mother *have* to be a feminine clause, or does it technically mean someone who birthed the child. If that's the case, wouldn't Legolas be the mother? Hmmm... And oh, yes. There was another male party involved. But I like the way you're thinking... *smirk* 


	4. chapter 4

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. Well, heck with the 'no kissing' rule, that goes out the window, but still, if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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"What about peach?"  
  
"White."  
  
"Well, peach suits you so much better!"  
  
"White."  
  
"But--"  
  
Eowyn lay a finger smilingly on his lips. "No. I said white," she teased coyly and looked up to be kissed. Faramir did so willingly.  
  
"But only if I get to dress as Captain of Gondor."  
  
"But my lord--" she whined, but this time, Faramir held up his hand for silence. "Oh, okay," she sighed at last. "Whatever you think best, my lord, though I *still* think it unbecoming for the Prince of Ithilien to come to his own wedding as a common soldier."  
  
"Captain."  
  
"Captain, phooey. You're just a common soldier."  
  
"Says the shieldmaiden of Rohan. *The* shieldmaiden, mind you. You could have been killed."  
  
"I was already dead inside," she shrugged.  
  
Faramir shook his head. There was no use arguing with her. "Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked, changing the subject. Eowyn laughed.  
  
"What you mean to say is, do *you* remember the first time *you* saw *me*."  
  
"Hmmm, yes... As I recall, you weren't impressed at all."  
  
"Hardly, my lord!" she laughed. "It's just that my attentions were... occupied elsewhere."  
  
"Occupied elsewhere indeed!" he scoffed, feigning indignation and chased her around his private chamber. He caught up with her easily, and for the hundredth time, wondered if it was because she let him catch her. For some reason, the possibility of it bugged him. //Oh, no matter,\\ he thought, brushing the notion aside as he leaned in to kiss her, but to his surprise, she turned away and wriggled out of his grasp.  
  
"Are you sure this is appropriate?" she asked uncertainly. Faramir smiled. Taking both her hands in his, he sat her down on the bed and took his place beside her.  
  
"Of course," he whispered. "The door is wide open, and our marriage is approaching. There is no scandal. And even if there were, the people love you too much."  
  
"The people only accept me because of *you*. They adore you, my lord Faramir. The only reason they even look at me is because of you. You are a good man, Faramir, and they love you because of that."  
  
"And you?" he teased. Eowyn swatted him with a cushion, playfully starting a pillow fight, and together they laughed and ran, joyfully bathing the furniture in a soft downy white as the thinly sewn seams gave way. They were so immersed in their little game that they almost didn't notice the knocking at their door.  
  
"Legolas!" Faramir yelped, caught off guard. "What are you doing here? Well, come in, come in. Don't be a stranger!" he said, spreading his hand in a gesture of welcome. Slightly put off by the Elf's grim attention and more than a little embarrassed at their childish display, the couple hurriedly soothed themselves down in a hopeful attempt to appear presentable.  
  
Despite their efforts however, Legolas' face remained stony and hard. Faramir and Eowyn exchanged nervous glances. Why did he always have to look so disapproving? Or were all elves so cold and aloof? Suddenly, unexpectedly, Legolas crumpled. Unable, or perhaps *unwilling* to support himself any longer, he leaned heavily against the door, eyes tightly shut and gasping for breath as another contraction ravaged his body.  
  
For a fraction of a second, the couple froze, staring at him in alarm, but the soft whimper that escaped his lips snapped them out of their momentary daze. In an instant they were by his side, carefully helping him into the nearest chair.  
  
"I'll get Gandalf," Eowyn breathed as soon as she was convinced that Faramir could tend him without her.  
  
"No!"  
  
The two paused. "No?" they repeated, disbelief colouring their features. Surely they had heard wrongly.  
  
"No," Legolas whispered. "Please. Don't tell anyone."  
  
"Why ever not?"  
  
"Just don't. Please. I beg of you."  
  
Eowyn looked at Faramir uncertainly, but the man looked equally torn.  
  
"Please?" Legolas whispered again.  
  
Shrugging helplessly, Faramir turned to Eowyn. "It's up to him."  
  
"But he needs help!" she gasped, outraged.  
  
"It's his choice, Eowyn."  
  
"But look at him! Faramir, he needs help!"  
  
"No..." Legolas interrupted. Now that the contraction had passed, he was once more master of his features. "No, I'm... alright. It's okay, Eowyn. I'm alright."  
  
Eowyn knelt before him suspicious. "Legolas," she began but he waved her into silence. Eowyn stood up and shook her head. She turned from Legolas to Faramir and back to Legolas again and sighed heavily. "Alright," she said at last. "Fine. I won't fetch anyone. But you have to tell me what's going on."  
  
Legolas nodded. It was only fair, after he had given them such a bad fright, but somehow or other, the words stuck in his throat. What was he supposed to say, and how was he to say it? Looking up at the two pale, frightened faces before him, felt engulfed by an all-powerful sense of guilt. What right had he to worry them that way? It was no concern of theirs. Why had he chosen to come here in the first place?  
  
But those questions could wait. What he really needed now was to give them an answer. Shutting his eyes, he massaged his throbbing temples as he racked his brains for some form of explanation. //Wait... throbbing... what?! *Ow*, he was having such a headache!\\ Legolas groaned inwardly. Well at least he had the small comfort of knowing that his muttered excuse at dinner wouldn't have been a total lie after all. He shivered.  
  
Not for the first time, he felt the baby move restlessly within him and winced terribly at the sensation. He heard a soft gasp, and looking up, he saw Eowyn staring at him in horror, her hands cupped across her mouth in rising alarm. "No," she whispered, shaking her head.  
  
"What do you mean?" Faramir turned to her, jittery. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her hard. "What do you mean by that? Eowyn!" he demanded, "What is it?!"  
  
Eown tore free of his grasp and fell at Legolas' feet. "Legolas," she whispered, "What's going on?" Legolas turned away, unwilling, unable to face her. "Legolas," she pressed. "I saw that," she said, half to herself. "I saw it... But no, that can't be, right, can it? I mean, you're, you're, you're *Legolas*. That can't happen. It's... it's... impossible," she said, and laughed nervously. "Tell me I'm just being silly. Legolas? Please? Tell me I'm just being silly."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No," he said softly. "You're not. For the longest time *I* thought I was being silly. But I wasn't. And you're not. You're not."  
  
//There!\\ Legolas thought. He had said it! He had admitted it. Now someone else knew about him. And it was such a relief! Now perhaps someone else could do the worrying for him... Guiltlessly letting his emotions overcome him, he let his face fall into his hands and sobbed.  
  
Slowly, hesitantly, Eowyn stood up and put her arms around him and petted his back. She looked up at Faramir doubtfully seeking his advice but the Man simply shrugged his shoulders in confusion. He still had no idea what was going on. "What?" Faramir mouthed silently, half afraid that he might upset Legolas if he voiced his question aloud. After some frantic signing on Eowyn's part, he somehow managed to get a clearer picture. "No," he mouthed, shaking his head in violent disbelief. Eowyn shrugged and signed him a shocked expression, and he returned it with one of complete incredulity, but their odd little miming game lasted only as long as Legolas wept; they stopped as soon as it became obvious that he was trying to compose himself.  
  
"I'm so cold," he Legolas said wretchedly. "I am so cold!" Eowyn got up and draped a blanket around his shoulders, and he wrapped it tightly around himself, shivering uncontrollably. "Elves don't feel cold," he whispered. "But I'm so cold! I'm so, so very cold... how do Men do it? How do you live with it? How do you bear the cold? Day by day by day... So cold... I've never been cold before. But... but ... I'm so *cold*..."  
  
Eowyn took his hand and squeezed it tightly in hers. His fingers were like ice.  
  
"Legolas," Faramir said, gently laying a hand on his knee. He knelt down before the distressed Elf and looked up at him in concern. "Legolas, we need to get someone."  
  
"No!" he hissed. "Nobody else!"  
  
"But we need to get you to someone who knows what to do. None of us here have the slightest clue as to what we should do."  
  
"I don't care!"  
  
"Legolas, listen to yourself," Eowyn crooned, rocking him gently. "Please, be rational about this. Legolas--" she was cut off by a soft moan. "Oh dear gods..."  
  
Faramir turned to his betrothed. "Eowyn, he cannot stay here," he whispered, ignoring her soft cry of indignation. "If he wants it secret then we have to honour that. There must have been a reason why he came here of all places, and that you happened to be here with me, and I accept that. But he cannot stay here. We simply cannot afford to close the door."  
  
Eowyn sighed and ran her hands over her face. She knew Faramir was right. "I can leave," she said at last.  
  
"No!" Faramir cried in alarm before steadying himself. "We're going to need you to be here."  
  
"Then we're going to have to move him?" she asked slowly. Faramir shrugged, and together they both turned to Legolas. "I don't know..." she said quietly. "He really doesn't look too good..."  
  
Legolas, who had in fact been listening to their conversation with something close to fascinated disbelief, looked up at them and shook his head. "I'm okay," he said. "Really, I am. I can walk. I don't mind. Just don't tell anyone. Please."  
  
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Tolkien dint specify who got captaincy of Gondor went to. I just played the wild card and assumed he kept it together with all the extra honours. And oh, now that the King is back, does anyone know what the heck the steward does? I'm assuming he just sits there in Ithilien until Ary goes cross country and shoves all the admin duties to him.  
  
Okay. There. Chapter 4. *grins* haha. I'm actually in this cool conference room waiting for all my other club members to walk on in... got an AGM today, but since nobody's here yet I mite as well get down to work! *grinz*  
  
Legolas19: yay! Glad u liked it. Am working, am working, am working to bring youses some fickies.. Haha. But hey, you know, usually the people who are most freaked out by male pregnancy are of course guys. But the people who are most disgusted by Mpreg tend to be fellow females... interesting, isn't it. =D  
  
Haldir's Heart and Soul: A relationship with Leggy? Hmmm.. Maybe, but probably not in this fanfic. In a different one, yes. Oh, btw, have you read Of Elves and Aphrodisiacs by Tricia? It's bdsm, but a really well written piece nonetheless. And seeing you love haldir and you seem to enjoy leggy in this kinda confused helpless state, maybe you'd enjoy haldir being the cause of his confusion! I cant give you the actual site itself, but you can get to her webbie at and get there from there.  
  
Venus4: Yupyup! Am updating! And yay! I'm glad u liked it. Thanx man!  
  
MoroTheWolfGod: whoa. Is there really a Moro the wolf god? From history of from fiction? Or maybe from fanfiction? Am hurrying! Am hurrying! Haha!  
  
Anonymous: yupyup! And now he finally has help, tho of an 'incompetent' kind. Haha. But at least he has some moral support... even if they are all equally freaked... *grinz* You should be happy, this particular chapter is rather long. but a lotta dialogue. Haha. I *like* dialogue. =D Ooooh, are you encouraging poor innocent moi to be a bad girl? Well, no harm done there. I'm supposed to be at a meetin right now but I'm typetty typing away! Haha. ((( he could always lie and say that he was...how do you say...forced?))) huh? Forced? As in raped? Well, that's not going to solve the problem, is it? I mean, he's a guy. I think that'll be an even worse blow on his manhood (elfhood?) than actually well... that's one reason for his secrecy at least. Its too humiliating a thought, not just cos of the babe, but cos he's a guy as well. (((I'm wondering exactly HOW that will happen, considering that he doesn't have the anatomy for it!))) AHAH! Now this is where AU Fanfiction steps in! haha. Stay and find out!  
  
Mel: no, thank YOU for reviewing! *hugs* haha. You know, I started out not knowing whose kid it was either, but I had visualized that leg would probably go to fara because well, fara's a middle earth snag. Haha. I just thought he'd be most comfortable with fara. And then since I love fara/eowyn I just mentally inserted her. but then once I thought of their having to re-locate, I thought what the heck, why don't they re-locate to B's room? Because I'm a big fan of boromir/faramir (not brotherly incest, but brotherly love) and that'll give me a chance for Poor Sweet Faramir to get all 'I Want My Big Bwother!!!!' again. haha. And once that was settled... the only logical choice would be to spin that theory you have... tho I intend to remain cryptic... haha. Erm... wont say too much. Haha. But you're certainly thinking along the right path.  
  
Ivory Novelist: Hoho! You like faramir, eh. Er... a bit of a duh statement, I know. Haha. But yeah, aragorn's sweet. Only fara's sweeter! *grinz* haha. Fara wide-eyed. Hmmm... pretty. That's a really pretty overall image. Hey, thanks for your support! Heheh. Yup. The time *was* nice. 


	5. chapter 5

Movieleggy: You guys are sick.  
  
fazy: Shut up.  
  
Movieleggy: No, honestly you are. You need a shrink. You know, I can recommend you one. I had lunch with her just the other day. She's really nice.  
  
fazy: Well can you pay for my treatment?  
  
Movieleggy: er... no?  
  
fazy: Then shut up. I'm trying to do something here. (fazy adopts a sexy voice-over tenor) Here there be Reminders of Boromir.  
  
Movieleggy: Please. Shoot me. I am SO not impressed.  
  
*BANG*  
  
Movieleggy: VALAR! Bloody stupid mortals, THAT WAS JUST A PHRASE!  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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With a little help, Legolas managed to struggle to his feet. It was difficult though. It seemed that the contractions which had somewhat stabilized while he sat suddenly sprang back into full consciousness the moment he made an effort to move, forcing him back into a seating position. Somehow or other, he made it to the door and stood leaning heavily against the doorframe, mentally bracing himself for the challenge to come. Like before, he knew he would have to appear nothing less than serene to any casual passers by. How he could ever pull it off though, the Valar alone knew. He even had trouble making his way across the room, for goodness sake: he walked with his back bent and one hand outstretched, reaching for his nearest support like a cripple until Faramir had taken it into his head to slip and arm under Legolas's shoulders. And although the Elf was grateful for the Man's help, he knew he could not depend on it while in the corridor. Thrust back into the open, Legolas would have to find his own support, and he prayed with all his heart that the iron of his will would prove support enough.  
  
He doubted it would be though.  
  
Taking a few deep breaths, he summed up the courage to take the plunge and stepped past the invisible barrier separating his private from his public face, and once he did, the change that overcame him was remarkable. Carefully studying the beautiful creature that emerged from that metamorphosis, Faramir would never have guessed personal ordeal that that lay behind Legolas' seemingly tranquil expression.  
  
Legolas had shrugged free of their concerned hands and was now floating gracefully down the corridor air of quiet elegance and calm that Faramir had come to associate the Elves with. It was magical to watch, and the two eyed him with a weary sort of awe. How could he conceal his distress so well? It was as if he had sealed it off completely leaving not a single outlet for even a small rivulet to leak out from. Not a frown, not even a sigh, the only thing that betrayed him was a lingering aftertaste of grimness that tugged at his lips. But how long could he keep up his act? //Not very long,\\ Faramir guessed.  
  
But it seemed that the Man had underestimated Legolas' ability to keep up his illusion of glamour. A page hurried by looking frazzled, and a passing chambermaid smiled a cheery greeting, but none seemed to find anything out of place. To them, he was just an elven prince enjoying a quiet stroll in the cool of the night, his eyes closed serenely while his hand brushed reflectively against the rough texture. Faramir had to hand it to the guy. It would never have occurred to anyone passing that by adopting such a stance, Legolas was in fact using the wall as both a support and a guide.  
  
Watching transfixed as they trailed him at a safe distance, Faramir had failed to notice where the Elf's directionless wandering had brought them, but as Legolas turned a corner, a familiar musk permeated his senses. It was familiar... oh so familiar... With a growing sense of dread, Faramir looked around, and what he saw left him cold. The corridor... the passage... he had not passes this way since... since... But no, Faramir dragged his mind away from that black gaping chasm deep in his heart. His grief was still young, his wound too fresh to face such an ache.  
  
Before him, Legolas paused. He thought nothing of it at first: throughout the whole time, Legolas had paused at infrequent intervals as he fought to remain in control against the rising tide of his labour, but when he showed no signs of movement even after some minutes had passed, the Man grew worried. He glanced at Eowyn, and squeezed her hand. She too looked equally alarmed.  
  
Releasing Faramir's grasp, Eowyn stepped up to Legolas and laid a hand on his shoulder. Legolas whimpered at the gentle touch. "I can't walk," he whispered hoarsely. He reached for her shoulder and held it in a death grip. "I can't move my body!" he gasped in panic. "I can't walk!"  
  
"Sssh," she crooned, treading an arm strongly around his waist. "It's okay, it's okay. You see that door there? Just aim for that. That's right now, go slowly, let's take it one step at a time. Come on, Legolas, just one step... that's right, good, come on... yes... that's it, that's right. Just keep it up. Slowly now, step by step, one step at a time, that's it, come on now, very good..." she coaxed as she guided him towards the nearest visible doorway. If it so happened that it was not an empty chamber, well, tough luck, whoever who was in there would have to be vacated. For everyone's sake, she hoped fervently that chance would have them stumble into an unused room.  
  
And although it was Legolas who had been locked in place just minutes before, now it was Faramir's turn to freeze up. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do to get his limbs to obey him. Dimly, the Man watched in dismay as the two in front ducked into what he knew was an empty chamber.  
  
//Boromir...\\  
  
His brother haunted him, haunted his sleep, haunted his steps, haunted every second of both his waking and dreaming moments so strongly that Faramir could never bring himself to enter the room of the deceased. It hurt too much to walk into his cold empty room: he couldn't bear to see all that familiar furniture and smell the familiar scents and yet to just live on, *knowing* that his brother was... gone.  
  
Faramir rested his hot forehead against the cool stone walls and groaned softly. Of all places! And now Legolas had entered that sacred temple which housed the ghost of his brother, and the spirit so long undisturbed would now be dispersed. The delicate holiness attached to it will dissipate into nothingness, and there would be nothing left to remind him of his grief.  
  
Why here? Why now? It was too fast. Curses, it was much too fast. It was so unfair! Faramir had carefully avoided his brother's room for so long now for fear of breaking it's hallowed air. He had been waiting, saving his intent in the deepest recesses of his soul for the right moment to break into that world between worlds, to enter the domain where his past memories might once more be brought to life. The fact that nobody had so much as been there since the elder son had left would mean Boromir's presence there still lingered on, a last fragile memory of him in a bleak forgetful world. Sure, Boromir's bed would be cold and unslept in, and the air musty with unuse, but it meant something to Faramir that it would have been both the last things in Gondor which Boromir had touched, and the last things that actually touched his living flesh. Those hands that the wooden desk last felt would have been Boromir's and Boromir's alone, pure and untainted by any else, as was everything else in the room. And that was what made it so important to the grieving Man.  
  
But now the seal was breached, and Boromir's spirit no longer dwelt within. The sacredness that Faramir had been clinging on to had dissipated and there was nothing left... nothing left for him...  
  
"Faramir?"  
  
For a moment, Faramir froze half hoping that it was the voice of his brother that called out to him, that these past few months had just been a bad dream and he would open his eyes to see Boromir joyfully striding down the corridor in eager greeting. If only these past few months were just a dream... If only. If only all that business with the Ring had never happened, Boromir might still be here today... alive and happy, and practically bursting with pride at the news of his little brother's upcoming nuptials. But no, he thought sadly. The voice that had spoken his name was female. His elder brother was gone forever.  
  
Taking a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, Faramir looked up and composed his face into a smile. For Eowyn's sake. The last thing she needed was a poor depressed sod for a husband.  
  
"I'm coming," he replied. His voice came out as a tight whisper, half choked with the weight of his unshed tears. "I'm..."  
  
"Faramir, what's the matter?" she said coming up to him in concern. "Faramir?"  
  
Faramir looked away for a long moment, but when she came up to his side, he reached gratefully for her hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's just... since he..." he trailed off.  
  
"Who, my love?"  
  
"My brother."  
  
And Eowyn nodded in alarmed understanding. "This is...? I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea it meant something to you."  
  
Faramir shrugged, trying hard to feel as nonchalant as he acted. "Legolas couldn't have made it much further anyway."  
  
"True. True." She looked at him expectantly. "Come on, lets go in." And Faramir nodded.  
  
Alright.  
  
Now was the time for it.  
  
He had already put it off for too long.  
  
Boromir had passed on, and he would never come back.  
  
There was no use waiting, no use putting it off anymore. If only he had acted sooner perhaps he might have had the chance to savour the pure essence of his brother as captured in the room, but even now it was not too late. Some part of Boromir still lingered there, but the longer he waited, the more it would diminish, and the smells that were once entirely a part of his brother's existence would mingle with the other scents the two had brought in with them. If he didn't grab his chance to savour what little was left, it would be lost to him forever, and there would be nothing he could do to either prevent or undo it's passing. Closing his eyes, he let out a long deep breath and gave her hand a quick squeeze.  
  
//Boromir... My brother...\\  
  
Oh dear gods, he still remembered his brother's last words to him with starting clarity. He could almost imagine that he heard Boromir calling out to him in that rich deep voice of him, "Little Brother... Little Brother..." He closed his eyes. The pain of remembrance stabbed him to the soul. He bled.  
  
"Come on," he whispered. "Lets go in," he choked. And mustering up the courage he needed, Faramir stepped through the door and into the limbo that lived on in the world in between worlds.  
  
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HAH. Done at last. Man, this was so difficult to write. It's so difficult to capture what Faramir feels, whether it's awe at Leggy's ability to put on and take off his public persona just like that or grief at the loss of his brother... it's all so difficult, and I was rather disappointed with the result. Maybe cos its all such powerful emotions and I'm not skilled enough to portray it... Ah well, practice makes perfect.  
  
Practicepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticeprac ticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepractice practicepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticepracticeprac ticepracticepracticepracticepracticepractice  
  
=D  
  
Legolas19: Well, I have a thing for MPREG too... well, provided they're well written. I get squeamish quite easily, so I appreciate it when a story doesn't get too gross...that's why I try to concentrate more on thoughts and emotions rather than actual physical details. I also have a thing against the word 'pregnant'. I don't know why, I just do. I don't think it's rude or anything (tho I have a friend who tells me her mom blows a fit when someone says 'pregnant' as opposed to 'with child'. Go figure.) But I do think it kinda freaky.. the way really bad gout is freaky, or the way lunacy is freaky. Its not that I have never really been around er... (I would say 'expectant mothers' but that too is freaky. Heck, the words 'motherhood' and 'maternal' are *damn* freaky) ... I think that's enough of freaky for now. It might be a good idea to shut up... =P  
  
Brilover: I'm really sorry I didn't email you, but something went wrong and the stupid email administrator send me a mail saying that ooooh, looky, no such email address exists! Bah. It does that sometimes. It keeps telling me my aunt's email address is non-existent even tho I HAVE sent emails to her before so I KNOW there's a problem with my email. So far, it's blacklisted 3 email addresses. I hope it doesn't start blacklisting even more, cos I've been using that addy for more than 6 years now and I don't wanna switch. It's like moving out of the neighbourhood you grew up in and its really sad...  
  
Anonymous: Well, yeah, on one hand his reputation will be saved in the sense that nobody is going to take him for a slut, but on the other hand, don't you think it'll be a serious blow to his *ahem* manhood? I mean, the guy's a male for goodness sake. The last thing he would want is to be known far and wide as the first male to ever become a mother. Call guiness, man. Or as Farflung put it, the Elven National Enquirer. Haha. Lets see him squirm his way out of *that* mess. As to what chapter it is, well, we don't have much longer to go. Leggy's settled... well, almost. We do have to have *someone* run to get stuff like well, the stuff they considered 'necessary' for childbirth and well, that's about it. So who knows, it might just be the next chapter. I have an awful habbit of going on and on till someone shoots me so it might just drag, but I cant think of any more drama that might prolong it more than 2 chappies. Most drama is done now. All that's left is the drama of the birth...  
  
Farflung: haha. Definitely out of the Elven National Enquirer, and any other tabloid mags that might be in circulation. That'll totally despoil his whole reputation. Whoa, everything he's done to earn his name, and it's all pissed away with one article... But I can so imagine Galadrial or Elrond reading this kinda junk and bitching away with their telepathy thing behind everyone's backs. Haha. A good image, really. =D About the poor self-esteem, I dunno. He seems rather confident an elf. Maybe too confident perhaps? He's very proud after all. I think it's pride rather than a lack of self-esteem that's making him so harsh on himself. But I could be wrong. Or blame it on the hormones, yeah, that's a quick easy way out. *grinz* But you're right. Eowyn' such a peoples' person (commoners' noble?) that she should have at least a bit of visual experience with delivering horses/ sheep/ pigs etc... hmmm... thanks for mentioning that. never thought about it before. But don't you think you're being a bit judgemental about Faramir? I mean, I *did* think he'd be just a little useless, but not *that* useless. =D (((Well when I first started reading this chapter I got very confused and thought I had accidently gotten in another story. So when Legolas showed up I was like OK this is the right story after all.))) haha. I thought that was fun. *grinz* actually, I was kinda getting sick of Elven Angst so I thought a bit of fun harmless play would be well, fun.  
  
Haldir's Heart and Soul: O_o ;;;;  
  
MoroTheWolfGod: whoa, cool persona. Giant 2-tailed wolf. Whoa. =D  
  
Yume no Kokoro: haha! I know what you mean, especially if it's directed to Legolas! *evil conspiratory grin* There's just something about Movieleggy's beautiful blondeness and porcelain skinness and absolute duh-ness that simply screams to be tortured. How does the Fellowship take it! There are worse sirens than the call of the ring...  
  
Angelbird2241: Thanks! And yupyup! Am updating! Am updating! =D  
  
Mel: haha, so does that mean I'm safe to assume u actually *like* long chapters? =D Hmm... not much is learned eh. What else *is* there to learn? Not much, not that I ken think of at least. And perhaps I should clarify that. you might not be thinking along the right path (only leggy ken tell u for certain!) but you *are* thinking the way I am.. *grinz*  
  
Theodred Prince: Yeah! Glad u like it! And I'm working on more chappies ASAP! Haha.  
  
Das Blume: huh? Lost a chapter? *fazy sits down n thinks* Oh! I know, you mean you lost a chance to have ur name in the last one in the review response section! =P haha. And yeah, now that you mention it, I can just imagine them whispering away while casting weird glances at all the male elves, especially those in long robes... *snigger* and maybe signing over their weird feeling but quickly disguising it as a flick of the hair or a little cough every time Elrond turns around. Man, I love the Men of Gondor. They are so.. *glomps both boro & fara* and I'm sooooooooo grateful to PJ for giving us moment of brotherly love in the extended TTT. That was soooooooooooo terribly touching. Awwwww... I've always been a big fan of Boro & Fara's brotherly love. Not incest, but real true honest to goodness platonic brotherly love. Okay, okay, a bit of slash wont hurt, but provided they don't actually *act* on it. Gimmie any other slash pairing but leave the Brothers (Boro/Fara and Elladan/Elrohir) alone! (((((even more convincing that "hey! I'm gonna be a dady!))))) erm... you're gonna have to explain that bit. I dint quite get you. Sorry. But hey, thanx for the review! 


	6. chapter 6

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Faramir stepped through the heavily embossed doorway into the lavishness that was his brother's personal living space, and not for the first time, felt a pang of hurt hurriedly smothered at that lasting testimony of his late father's blatant favouritism. Everything his father had was showered upon his brother, his father's pride and joy. But now everything was displaced. His father was dead, killed by his own fit of madness... madness at the thought of Faramir's supposed death... Oh dear. His father really did love him, didn't he? The elder steward just... never showed it. Or perhaps, Farmir had never felt it even thought it was there? But there was no use speculating about that now. His father was dead, his body reduced to ashes, a victim of living cremation. Faramir shuddered. He felt so lost.  
  
//Boromir... if only you were here...\\  
  
He looked around with half-seeing eyes and dimly registered Legolas crouched upon a heavy oak chair by the window. The chair. How often had Faramir sat in it as he watched his brother at work? Boromir had always been interested in History: they did after all consist mainly of battles and great wars of past. And lineage, that too. Boromir was obsessed with lineage. How many times had he just sat there as a child while Boromir sat at his desk and poured through his books?  
  
Faramir sighed. There were so many memories...  
  
"Faramir," Eowyn said, snapping him out of his reverie. "Faramir, stay with Legolas. I'm going to get some things."  
  
"Where are you going? And what things?"  
  
"You know..." she said. "Things. *Things*. Those things," she said as she walked towards the door. "For him. And oh, and can you start a fire?" she said sweetly. "He's freezing."  
  
And with that she was gone.  
  
Faramir shifted in discomfort. He glanced up at Legolas, only to find the Elf watching him. He shuddered. There was something terribly disconcerting about this situation. It was wrong. Terribly wrong.  
  
"Alright then," Faramir sighed and forced some semblance of cheerfulness into his voice. "Let's get the fire started."  
  
But even after he had managed to get the fire burning cheerfully away, Eowyn still had not returned. Where the heck was she anyway? Faramir could not think of a more awkward situation than the one he was now in. Nervously, he stole a quick glance at Legolas, just to find the elf watching him guardedly. He shuddered. Why did Legolas have to *watch* him like that anyway? It was as if the Elf was his examiner and he was being tested, but tested for what he did not know. He only hoped that Eowyn would come back soon. He really, really hoped so. In the meantime, he did the only thing a man could do. He pulled up a chair and waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
And then waited some more.  
  
And waited and waited and waited until he felt about ready to explode. Where *was* she? How could she just abandon him to tend to the elf like this! Being shut up like this with Legolas in that state was nothing less than torture! How could she do this to him!  
  
Shifting restlessly in his chair, he cast a worried glance in Legolas' direction and bit his lip guiltily. He knew he should be more... more what?..... more supportive? Yes, he supposed that was it. He really should be more supportive but for some reason or other, Legolas' condition unnerved him to the core, and try as he might, he just couldn't bring himself to shake off the feeling of *wrongness* that hung heavy in the chamber. All the while, Legolas watched him from the corner of one half- opened eye.  
  
Faramir stood up and strode to the window. Perhaps a change in scenery would do him some good. The mustiness of the place was getting to him, as was the heat. Did the Elf really feel that cold, or was he just imagining the chill? Or perhaps it had something to do with the 'L-word'. Faramir could not bring himself to pronounce it, even in the privacy of his head. The idea of a fellow male in the clutches of labour was too disturbing a thought. He shuddered.  
  
But it was the Elf's pain that distressed him the most: it plagued him with guilt! Here was someone who he had come to think of as... well, not quite as a friend-- Legolas had always been rather quiet and distant-- but as a companion, and it hurt him to see someone he cared about so distraught. And here he was, turning a blind eye... it screamed out against all Faramir had been brought up to believe.  
  
And so when the next contraction left Legolas moaning softly, Faramir approached him cautiously and laid a hand hesitantly on the Elf's shoulder. He felt Legolas' muscles tense up at his touch, and read the bewilderment in the other's face as Legolas' eyes crept up to meet his.  
  
But even if the gesture was unexpected, it certainly was appreciated, and Legolas gripped his hand hard. "There, there," Faramir crooned, reaching for the nearest chair with his free hand and drawing it close. As soon as he had settled in his chair, Faramir cupped Legolas' hand warmly in both of his. Eowyn was right. The Elf was freezing.  
  
"Do you want a blanket?" he asked, concerned, and stood up to fetch one without waiting for a reply, and was surprised when Legolas refused to let go of him. He was even more taken aback by the other's look, by the wide elven eyes silently pleading to not be left alone.  
  
And for the first time, the immensity of it all dawned on Faramir. Legolas was terrified. He was scared out of his wits and floundering out of his depth, and for so long, Faramir had selfishly left him to struggle with this alone. Oh dear...  
  
Suddenly Legolas whimpered. "I feel weird," he said, throwing Faramir into a panic.  
  
"What do you mean?" he replied, trying hard to sound as calm and in control as possible. "What's... Legolas... what's that?" he said, eyeing Legolas suspiciously. "Did you soil yourself?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"But--"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Then--"  
  
"I DON'T KNOW!" Legolas cried in fright.  
  
"Don't know what?" a voice sensible voice cut through the room as Eowyn strode in hauling a high stool and with a thick length of rope hanging from her shoulders. She caught sight of Legolas and broke into an idiot grin.  
  
"Thank Eru!" she breathed. "For a while there I was really worried that the baby wouldn't have an exit but if your water broke then there *must* be some sort of passage for the baby to be born!"  
  
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End of chapter 6.  
  
Thanks for all the reviews! YAY! But as Saint so rightly pointed out, responding to them takes up a hellova lotta space. I'm used to doing review responses and it's kinda common in some other fandoms but this fic seems to get an amazing number of reviews so I don't think this can go on. ;D And incidentally, its more fun to get emails cos then you ken reply as soon as you get it and not have to worry about how bloody long your reply is! Haha! So email me! chopstickssg@yahoo.com My inbox is always open. *grinz* who cares about the little review counter anyway! =D Plus, writing all those responses all at once before posting actually sets me back at least 3 days after the fic's already written, so you'd probably get updates faster if you email me straight *nudge, nudge*  
  
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Response to reviews:  
  
Legolas19: Yay! Thanks!  
  
Anonymous: Hehe. Well, now you can begin to speculate where.. *cheeky grinz* Well, but if you think about it, weird noises from Boromir's room... people will probably put it down to the supernatural... hehe. Well, that was actually an idea for when Leg's alone. Yeah, I was speculating about letting leg alone for awhile but I was kind and let Faramir stay with him. *grinz* And yeah, I've been able to write quicker than expected mainly cos of my godawful time table which leaves me stuck in school with noting to do from 2pm- 7pm every Monday!!!!!! WAAAAAHHHHH!  
  
mel: Really? You think so? *am touched* I actually thought I wasn't able to capture it as well as I would have liked. Need more practice! Haha. *hugs mel*  
  
Harper's Pixie: Hidden obsession? Haha! Whoa... *shudders* But yes, mpreg is SO cool when done properly. *evil cackle* hey, you read any other good mpreg u wanna share? I haven't come across any for a long time. Seems people've stopped writing them or something. Hehe. *flashes innocent grin*  
  
Haldir's Heart and Soul: You like Boromir? hehe. How is it that so many people who like haldir also like Boromir and so many people who have a thing for Boromir also like haldir? Hmmm... I think they're both cool. Well, the ones in the movies that is. The Boromir in the book was a mighty pain in the behind, and I don't even *remember* haldy from the book. He didn't make much of an impression, but I remember I thinking book Boromir was in severe need of therapy.  
  
Saint: Haha. I was actually aiming for this to be a short chapter fic. Don't ask me *why*, I just thought it'd be more fun and less stressful to do so, and I don't really have long A/Ns. I usually keep it to max 2 paragraphs. The thing that makes it long is the review replies. This was my first 'free fic', and I kinda modelled it after what I enjoy in other fics, and I enjoy short little funny conversations before the fic starts. I also enjoy short fics...well... not TOO short, obviously, it kinds sux when you get a fic with just 2 pages of nothing but leave-a-line dialogue, but I like it when the fics I read are nice and short, and stretched over a lotta chapters. And as for the review response, well, I think that if people have taken time out to write you a message then its only nice to write back. And I *do* like it when other people do review responses so I do one as well, tho that sorta thing seems less common in the LoTR fandom.  
  
Das Blume: haha! Never underestimate the power of practie.. Hehe, I sound all zen-like saying that! =D ooooookay, so THAT's what you meant by 'hey! I'm gonna be a daddy!'. Yeah. Why dint *I* think of that?! Naw, Fara and Eowyn (is it even possible to give her a pet name? Eo? Owy? Eyou? Gah! Some names are hopeless!) wont faint dead away. They'd burst out laughing and think it's a splendid joke until they realise its NOT a joke, and THEN they'll faint dead away. *grinz* Elven National Enquirer sounds like a lotta problems? Hell, it sounds like fun to me. *grinz* Maybe someone should start one... like a fic archive, or a monthly newsletter with links to all all the funnest, crappiest, most scandalous fics and with a short write-up. that'll be a blast! (((A Horse and a sheep is diferent from an elf dear))) *fazy tries to stifle her laughter and ends up snorting instead* haha. Yeeeeeesssss, I think we can safely assume that eh? ;) And when I sed 2 more chapters, its abt 2 more (now 1 more) to the birth. Whoever sed it ends WITH the birth? Hehe. I'll have maybe 2 more chapters after that, and that's where a lotta answers will come out (implicitly? Explicitly? Blatantly obviously? Hmmm...) Well, about the salsh, I have a younger bro and 2 younger sis but I don't generally mind incesty stuff. Its just Boro/Fara and Elladan/Elrohir who I cant bear to be slashed up, they're too sweet already! for obvious reasons I cant stomach Legolas/Gimli and anything with Elrond, Gandlaf, Galadrial and other members of the Council of the Elders. (Council of Elders being a family joke referring to anyone from the earlier generation.) For some reason when you say 'Eldond slash' I have this horrible image of thin flaky thigs and cellulite. *shudder* I know, I know, elves don't HAVE cellulite, but still...  
  
Anonymous: haha! Don't worry, I wont let him loose his pride completely. He wont be Legolas if without his pride. There is a solution, albeit a painful one for him. right now I estimate about 3 more chapters to go. The story will continue for a few years after Junior's born, then end tragically. *grinz* I do so love to make poor leggy suffer...  
  
HalandLeg4eva: Yay! Thanks! And yeah, mpreg is a tricky topic. It ken offend people, gross people out or well, just go all pear shaped on the writer. But its *fun* muahahaha. Oh well, I have a thing about Legolas. I like anything done at his expense. And wohoo, I was so glad I could include some Boromir/Faramir (not slashy) in the fic cos I'm a big fan of the Brothers. Hehe. They are the Brothers. Elladan/ Elrohir are the Twins. I love the Brothers and the Twins. =D  
  
Ivory Novelist: Whee! Yay! Haha. Your reviews are infectious: they always get me into a hyper mood! Haha! Faramir & Leggy flaff? Hmmmm.. Don't remember any! Oops! But oh, I love Dear Sweet Angsty Faramir. He's so adorable. *hugs fara plushie* and I have a thing for fara/boro Brotherly Love sans slashyness. Well, a bit of slashyness is fine (so cute!) but not toooooooooooo much. Some sweet, sentimental, touching slash is okay, but the Boro n Fara in homoerotic stuff grosses me out. Like, the last thing I need is to read about them *ahem*... but then again, I love The Brothers, so I hold them Above All That. hehe. Brotherly Love rocks!  
  
Tap dancing widow: No, Faramir certainly isn't. As to who it is, you'll find out (actually, you'll NOT find out in the next chappie, tho by then it should be blindingly obvious who dunnit. *should* be. You wont know for certain until the very end...  
  
Farflung: Whoa, you're not someone to mess with, are you, and Moving On seems to be your speciality! ;D hehe. You're very practical. A really good person to have in case of an Emergency. Hehe. I guess that makes Leg lucky that Eowyn's a bit of a practical person. Gah. I feel so shallow for making her that typical image of femine strength (provide morale support, has emotional intelligence, is someone who will Be There and will Know What To Do) but Eowyn really does strike me as someone who's capable enuf. And YEAH! Sean Bean as Boromir rocks! *sighs dreamily* Honestly, the one in the book was such a pain that I was actually glad he died and got himself conveniently cut out of the picture, but from the very start, SB's Boromir was so... I dunno... tragic? There was something sad about him, something worth looking up to. I loved the movie Boromir. he came across as the most powerful, most passionate and above all, most *human* character. I love his passion. He has great love for his brother and his country and his people. I guess it was the bit where he taught the hobbits swordfighting that did it for me. That was an awfully sweet thing to do. (its oddly paternal the way he's always looking out for Merry & Pippin, the two who in the first movie are total dolts.) I think he'd make a great dad. I just hope I'll have a husband that can get along with my kids like that. And I'm getting on. Unless I get wildly outta control, the baby'll come next chapter.  
  
Titchy Angel of care: hihi! *waves* Wow, you cried?!? *fazy get big- headed.* okay, that's it. I'm printing your review out and keeping it safe, and anytime I think my writing sux I'll just take it out and read it again. Oh, but about the plot, this is an mpreg fic! A male pregnancy fic. Surely you've come across it before? If you haven't, then maybe you can try the one at Bagenders. (bagenders.stormpages.com). They have a Male Pregnancy Ghetto, an entire page dedicated to hosting mpreg stuff. Most of it's funny cos it *is* bagenders after all, but I find the hobbit ones fairly disconcerting. And yeah, the fact that it deals with mpreg is a MAJOR plothole, but hey, where's the fun in fanfic if we cant have stupid ridiculous stuff happening in wildly irrelevant AUs. Hehe. And thanks for dropping by! *hugs TAoc*.  
  
Yume no Kokoro: hehe. Thanks! And Quick Updating Skills are kinda helped along by a bloody stupid timetable which leaves me rotting in school with a 5h break between lessons every Monday. *wince* 


	7. chapter 7

Movieleggy: you're not giving this up, are you?  
  
fazy: nope.  
  
Movieleggy whines and tries to look as pathetic as possible while Bookleggy glares threateningly over the top of his preddie preddie bow.  
  
fazy: oh, okay, okay, I'll make life easy for the 'Legolas' in the fic, okay. Jeez, man, some people are SO protective...  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. Cant say this chapter has no sex cos it has. Nothing graphic, but it's there. Just a little bit tho, so get your minds out of the gutter! =P  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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The next few minutes was a flurry of activity as Eowyn bustled about getting things ready. "Faramir, get a bucket of water, will you, and a basin if possible. No of COURSE I don't know where to find one, I don't live here you dolt. I don't know. Ask around."  
  
"I think they would have at least one in the stables."  
  
"Goodness no," she replied, climbing onto the stool. "Here, would you just hold it still a bit, there's a dear. And pass me that rope. Thanks."  
  
"Why is the stool chipped in one corner?"  
  
"It's not chipped. It's made that way."  
  
"With a sorta... sorta... cleft?"  
  
"Yes. Oh, and about the basin, try to get a proper one. The ones in the stable will be all dirty and horsy. Not that I have anything against horses, mind you. I love horses, they're *beautiful* beings, so lovely... no, Faramir, I'm not getting carried away. I may be Rohirrim but I'm not so mad about horses that I get carried away talking about them, thankyouverymuch," she said as she tied the rope tightly to the stoutest ceiling beam in the room, then tugged upon it once or twice to test it's security.  
  
Satisfied with her handiwork, she jumped lightly off the stool and looked expectantly at Faramir. "Go on. Quickly. Shoo. Get moving. I need some hot water and a few more scarves-- oh, but then again a blanket will do just as well. If you don't want me messing about.. you know... his stuff... I can always run next door and get some."  
  
"No, it's okay. Help yourself, there's plenty in the cupboard in the corner."  
  
"Are you sure?" she asked softly. "Really, I can go next door, it's not a problem at all. Faramir, I know how much he meant to you... how much he still means to you."  
  
"It's okay," Faramir replied, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I think Legolas would rather not be left alone. Besides, I need to move on. He doesn't need them. He's not coming back," he said and drew a shaky breath. "So," he said briskly. "What do you need me to get?"  
  
"Bucket of water," she said, instantly switching back into business mode. "Basin. Oh, and knife. Knife, how could I forget. Is your dagger clean? No? Darn! Oh well, come on, get the water. We'll just wash it later. Hurry."  
  
Faramir turned and scuttled out so obediently that she had to laugh. He truly was an adorable little git, wasn't he. Ah well...  
  
"What do you want a dagger for?" Legolas managed to ask in between contractions, half afraid of her reply. He knew he was being silly, and that Eowyn was a nice, sane person, but a part of him was still apprehensive. What if she intended to use it to cut his neck. Or his belly. Or maybe even castrate him. Or something equally dreadful which he had not yet thought of. "What is it for?" he panted again.  
  
"To cut the chord, but we need to burn it first over the fire."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"To clean the blade."  
  
"And draw red hot metal across my skin? Are you raving mad, woman!?"  
  
"To cut the CHORD, the chord, not your SKIN. You won't feel a thing. Honest. Now let's get you to the stool."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because... Because..." she shrugged and waved her hands about helplessly. "Because it's Done. So you can have your baby."  
  
"butIdontwannahaveababy"  
  
"So does that mean you want to stay like this forever?" she asked, her hands on her hips. It was a gesture which would otherwise have appealed to him as rather sexy, if not for the fact that nine tenths of his brain was otherwise occupied by the very present threat of his labour. He shook his head meekly.  
  
"I thought not. Now let's get you ready." With surprising gentleness, she helped Legolas strip out of his outer robe and helped him onto the birthing stool. "There. Hold on to that," she said, placing his hands on the thick length of rope. It felt good in his hands, nice and solid and strong. It fitted perfectly into the curvature of his palm, and he clung to it tightly.  
  
And suddenly overcome by a warmth of emotion, Eowyn bent down and kissed Legolas softly on the forehead. "It'll be fine," she said reassuringly as she draped her arms around his shoulders. "You'll be great, just like you always are. I know you'll pull through this. Just be strong," she said simply and drew back before Faramir could return and catch them in such an intimate position. She knew without a doubt that Faramir would misinterpret her gesture, and the last thing she wanted was him to be wildly jealous of Legolas just when they would most need his help.  
  
She stood up, and not a moment too soon, for scant seconds later, the door opened to reveal the Man balancing a basin under one arm while carrying a large bucket of water. "Go tend to Legolas," she whispered as she hurried up to relieve him of his load. "I'll take care of this," she said. Careful not to spill any water on the carpeted floor, she filled the basin to its halfway mark and set the rest of the contents over the fire to boil.  
  
And then there was nothing left to do but to wait.  
  
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	8. chapter 8

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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"Check him, Faramir," Eowyn said quietly, after a particularly intense contraction had passed. "Please."  
  
"I can't. I don't know what to check him *for*."  
  
"I don't know," she said, and Faramir thought he could detect a small tremor in her voice. "Just do it."  
  
"No you do it."  
  
"Faramir!" she cried, now making no effort to mask her distress. "I can't! Faramir, he's a HE! I'm a girl, Faramir! You can't make me do that. Don't make me do that. Don't make me do that, please. Oh Gods, Legolas..." she trailed off helplessly. "Please?"  
  
Biting his lip nervously, Faramir knelt before the elf, and wincing, lifted Legolas' robe. What he saw left him pale and green. "Eowyn," he rasped. "This is wrong. This is wrong. This is so wrong." He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "What *are* you?!?" he shuddered, and looked up at the elf in horror and revulsion "Dear gods, this is sick and wrong."  
  
And Legolas could have hit him. In fact he was so furious that he almost did. Wasn't it bad enough that he was suffering here? What right had this *mortal* to judge! And to judge *him*. HIM! How dare he! If only he were in full control of his limbs, he knew beyond a doubt that Faramir would long have been reduced to a groaning pile on the floor. He would have the Man crawling out with his tail tucked between his knees. If... If... Legolas took a deep breath. If... if... if only. But his body was not in his possession any longer: it didn't follow his commands anymore. It took all of his energies to just concentrate on his labour. He could hardly even shift on the stool no matter how decidedly uncomfortable he was, let alone be master enough to beat the man to a pulp. The only thing he could do now was to grit his teeth and bear with it.  
  
Did that mean that... he was... different? //Of course I'm different,\\ he spat bitterly. Otherwise he would never have gotten himself into this mess. All unbidden, a memory bubbled to the surface; a memory so startlingly vivid that Legolas could almost smell the wet earth beneath him, mingled with the strong bodily scent of his lover. He remembered the sound of his own breathing, shockingly loud to his ears amidst the swimming confusion of his other senses as the other plundered him that night, leaving him half paralysed with the weight of their combined passion.  
  
And it had been surreal. Surreal, and Legolas had never experienced such an orgasmic intensity either before or after that incident. That must have been it then. That must have been the time where the child had been gifted to them. Somehow or other, by accident or otherwise he must have discovered Legolas'... but here even Legolas' mind turned away from the thought. Faramir was right. It did sound sick. The very idea of it was nauseating.  
  
He choked back a mangled cry as the baby's head slid into the burning narrowness that was his birth canal. "Eowyn," he gasped in panic as he clung tightly to the length of rope. "Eowyn!"  
  
"It's okay, Legolas," she cried, running up and taking him in her arms. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay," she said, rubbing his back. She continued to croon and soothe him as best as she could, and Legolas was heartily grateful for her human touch. "It's okay," she whispered, and the sincerity of her words pierced through the fog of his thoughts more potently than the blade of Anduril. It was about the only thing from the physical world that reached him, that registered in his mind. The rest of his being were thoroughly centred on the birth.  
  
Faramir goggled. "Eowyn..." he called out warningly. "Eowyn, the baby... Eowyn.. EOWYN!"  
  
"Oh, for goodness sake, if the baby's coming that support it!" she cried out in frustration. "Do *you* want to stand here and mind him? No? THEN CATCH!"  
  
"But I'll drop it! I'll drop it! Dear god, it's blue! Eowyn, I'll drop the damn thing!"  
  
"That's what the blanket's for. Use the blanket. Blankets are good things."  
  
"Then I'll drop the blanket!"  
  
"Don't be silly."  
  
"I'M NOT BEING SILLY!"  
  
It was about there that Eowyn gave up and turned her attention back to Legolas, hoping that if she left him alone for a bit, Faramir would pluck up the courage on his own. She had never been more right in her life, and after a few seconds of traumatised whining, Faramir settled down with a determined expression on his face, and Eowyn breathed a small sigh of relief.  
  
"This was Boromir's room," she said quietly. "I know you can still feel him, Faramir. His presence here is strong. Boromir was a strong man. Let us all draw our strength from it."  
  
//Boromir's room?\\ The words hit Legolas like a rock. He opened his other senses, and realised that what Eowyn had said was true. The presence was still there. How could he not have noticed it? He took a deep breath, drawing the Man's essence into his lungs and closed his eyes. He could feel Boromir here beside him.  
  
//Boromir, lend me your strength,\\ he thought as he braced himself for the birth of his child. //Lend me your strength.\\  
  
He felt the presence shift, and grow warm with an energy that engulfed him, and suddenly he found that he was surrounded by it, a calm steady aura that permeated his skin and entered his body, giving him the strength and will that he so desperately desired...  
  
And then it was over, and Legolas felt himself go limp as a rag doll. And oh so slowly, like a lens swimming into focus, the mists around him thinned, and with the thinning grew the dim awareness of his being moved somewhere, to a bed or a mattress most likely. And only then did the strangled wail of a newborn register in his consciousness.  
  
His newborn.  
  
Relief swept over him, but was quickly replaced by another emotion: love... or was it regret? ... or a mixture of the two, most like. Love for the child, and for it's father, but a deep seated grief that the two would never have the chance to know each other...  
  
"He's beautiful, Legolas," Eowyn whispered as she handed him the child, already cleaned and wrapped in a fresh blanket, and was shocked to see the tears that bathed the Elf's lovely cheeks. "What's the matter?" she asked, concerned.  
  
"What am I going to do?" Legolas whimpered, cradling the child as it were the most precious thing on Midde Earth. "I feel awful. I don't know what to do. He deserves so much more... so much I cant give him... I was so *stupid*. I didn't know... didn't realise..." he whispered as he gazed wretchedly at the tiny face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," he said to the infant. "You deserve so much more..."  
  
Faramir and Eowyn exchanged significant glances. After a time, she rose and excused herself, leaving the two men alone.  
  
"Who's child is it, Legolas?" Faramir said softly, his voice strangely devoid of emotion. "Who fathered it? Tell me! There is more than just elven blood coursing through his veins, that much is painfully obvious," he said. "I know that face, Legolas. I have seen it before."  
  
"Your grief makes you see a resemblance where none truly lies."  
  
"Don't lie to me. Look into my face and tell me who the father is," he commanded, but Legolas stayed stubbornly silent. "Legolas," he whispered warningly, but still the elf made no move to answer him. They eyed each other coldly for what seemed like forever before the Man suddenly snapped. Grabbing a fistful of soft blonde hair, he jerked the elf's head up and jabbed a finger in his face. "Curse you Legolas, DON'T you deny me my own nephew."  
  
Legolas glared at him so coldly that Faramir immediately released his grip. When the elf finally did speak, there was steel in his voice. "Faramir of Ithilien, Son of Denethor, I do not *deny* you anything. Be careful of what you accuse me of."  
  
Faramir closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "My apologies. My passion overcomes me," he said with a small smile. "I intended not insult." He rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Then he isn't who I think he is, is he?" he asked, fully expecting to be reassured of the truth of the statement, but still Legolas was silent.  
  
"Fine then," Faramir spat bitterly. "Keep your secrets. I couldn't care less," he said and walked out without another word.  
  
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Hihi. This is not the end. Two more chapters to go... well, approximately two. I don't know if I can fit everything into these two chapters tho I certainly intend to try! Haha. Btw, I emailed everyone their reply directly, unless I couldn't get their email addresses. Everyone else's should be here, but if I left anyone out, I'm so sorry! Pop by and tell me, will ya, cos that probably means my email screwed up somewhere. Thanks!  
  
By the way, drop by and read farflung's reviw. It's a short re-write of chapter 6, done spoof-style in just a few lines. It's HILARIOUS! Go read it. I nearly fell off my chair laughing.  
  
Tap Dancing Widow: Yes! I know! It's so amusing! Hehe. Oh, and the whole idea of this is to be able to go "poor, poor Legolas". hehe. Man, I just love doing that to him. Probably cos he looked so delightfully enchanting in the movies that my mind rebels against it and wants to put him through shit? Hmm... I dunno... and you should be happy. TWO updates at once. Hehe.  
  
Mel: YaY! Thanks! Heheh, and that's one of my fav lines in the whole story so far! And I know what you mean. It *is* frightening, and all the more so for being all mysterious and all. I mean, there's the whole myth and *thing* surrounding it and you don't know how much is true and how much is not. I guess that's what gets me hooked on. I keep having this need to find out more and learn more and hear more about it. Its kinda like, you know, taking a roller coaster ride. It's a thrill you know you don't really want but you cant help being fascinated by it. (btw, I don't do roller coaster rides, but some people do. its just an analogy ANYWAY! Hehe) And that's actually what I wanted to focus on most in Life, that terrible insane gnawing *fear*.  
  
Anonymous: haha. You should be very happy too. TWO updates at once. And I'm pretty smug with chapter 7... I think I pulled it off quite well, and it was pretty romantic... in a weird, spooky sorta way. Cute. And tho I *did* cut it off in the middle of the birth, I didn't make you wait long, so that's half a wish granted. Hehe. Sorry the reply's so short. I've got plently more to say, but it's 1am and I've got early morning classes tomorrow and I'm rushing to post it cos my computer's a bit screwed up and I don't know when's the next time it'll let me online! Email me! chopstickssg@yahoo.com. I'd love to get to know you better.  
  
angelbird12241: thanks! And I'm continuing! Here. Two more chapters to go, more or less, before everything comes to an end.  
  
Saint: no, no! not rude! I really was starting to have a problem with the enormous amount of reviews, and it was pretty exhausting to reply to them all at one go. Glad u mentioned it. Now at least I can reply directly, and I've started properly exchanging emails with a couple of them. It's fun. Thanks. So, what do you think now? Is Boromir the father? *evil grinzz* Or do you still think it might be someone else? *innocent smile, blink. Blink, blink, blink.* Elrond and Aragorn will 'react' next chapter.  
  
Lobo Diablo: hehe. Remarkable sorry for him at the moment? How bout now? I don't think I was *that* hard on him, especially towards the end. I think I was positively *ahem* compassionate. Lets see, Talir? Does it mean anything in Elvish? Cos it sounds awfully like Tali, and in my native tongue that means 'string'. Hehe. String, son of Green Leaf. God, that family is majorly screwed when it comes to names. Hm, I don't think Talir would be good, I'd just imagine a stringy young lad who might snap anytime. Any other suggestions before the Naming next chapter?  
  
Gatorade: hehe. Glad u liked it. All that pain and angst was getting to me and I wanted a bit of a laugh. The incident *was* supposed to be just a wee bit funny, just that I don't do comedy very well. =P  
  
Anonymous: Hehe. Now you know what the rope's for. I actually read that stuff like that really happened in the medieval days. Interesting, huh? But pretty freaky, cos you're like locked in place and expected to stay there no matter how bloody unconfaortable it is, and to tell the truth, that's really not a natural birthing position, so I *would* imagine it must have been bloody uncomfortable for a lot of other women. And here, chapter 7 AND eight! Hope you like it!  
  
Samwise the Brave: Cliffhanger? Oh, well, yeah, I guess. You know, when I read your first sentence I was bracing myself for a flamer, but haha, thanks for a wonderful review! And yes! I'm continuing! I'm continuing!  
  
Harper's Pixie: Thanks for the tip! I'll definitely look it up. sounds good. *pokes fic suspiciously* Frodo? FRODO? Erm... *shuffles feet* hmm... I dunno... I kinda don't quite Frodo cos I think he's a pain in the behind, but then again, the way you described it sounds interesting... and man, if I survived Legolas/Gimli then I should be able so survive anything, right? (btw, I was reading L/G cos I needed examples of erm... uncomfortable pairings and that was the most uncomfortable I could think of at the time. Somehow or other, the thought of leggy frantic for Gimli turns my insides, but hey, if it's for the sake of improving your writing then I guess it's worth it!) haha. I certainly will check out Beyond All Towers. Thanks for the recommendation! 


	9. chapter 9

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Legolas leant back and groaned softly. He still hurt, and steeling himself before Faramir had given him an added headache. He heard the door softly open and tensed himself for yet another duelling session but quickly relaxed when Eowyn's now-familiar scent ticked his nostrils. He never realised how comforting her bodily musk had come to be to him. It was softly hypnotic, lulling him into a puzzling yet welcome sense of contented complacency.  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas," she whispered. "He didn't mean to be so hard. It wasn't nice of him, that much I grant, but... he has a lot on his mind. He isn't usually that way. Faramir is a good man. That's why I'm marrying him."  
  
"Do you love him?" It was a question, honest and true. She could sense the innocent curiosity that lay behind it.  
  
"Yes, I do. But that isn't the point, is it?"  
  
"No, it isn't."  
  
"Just the way his personal need to hear his question answered is beside the point. Legolas, who's son is that? I don't need to know, Legolas. Eowyn the person doesn't need to know. But it's not just about me, or about Faramir. Legolas, who's child is it?"  
  
"You want me to say he is Boromir's son."  
  
"Gondor needs you to either confirm or deny it. I'm sorry Legolas."  
  
"The king has returned. It is of no consequence."  
  
"No, it is of large consequence. Politically, Faramir still holds position. He is the last survivor of his house. He is all alone in the world, Legolas."  
  
"He has you."  
  
"But I am not family. I never will be. Legolas, I feel so alone, so unbearable lonely after my uncle's death. I feel like my family is broken... reduced to ashes... and yet I still have my brother. And I know there will always be someone there to love me and support me... unconditionally. The two of us are the last of our house, Eomer and I. But Faramir has no family. He is all alone in the world."  
  
"But that doesn't give him a right to..." he started, then broke off as he realised the weakness of his argument. Faramir indeed had every right to demand an answer if he suspected the child had man-blood in his veins. If it truly was Boromir's child then that would make it Faramir's heir. And not only that, it would make the child Steward as soon as he came of age, and unless the man had children of his own, it would inherit all claim to Ithilien upon Faramir's death. And that would make the child higher than Faramir in both rank and importance.  
  
Eowyn sat down and sighed. "Legolas, I don't know what might happen when ... I fear... *we* fear... that perhaps... he is not man enough... and I am not woman enough... to create a child together. And if so, then the line will be broken," she said quietly, her head bowed low. "And we would have failed our people."  
  
"Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy," Legolas nodded.  
  
"Yes. Unless the elder son of Gondor left his legacy."  
  
"He had no women? Somehow I find that surprising. Boromir always struck me as being particularly fond of his women."  
  
"Oh, and he had many!" she blushed. "Or so the servants say when they think I'm not listening. But he had no heir, not even an illegitimate. And perhaps that is part of what bothers Faramir the most."  
  
"Impotency?"  
  
"His father had two sons. Only two. And his brother had none. And he feels they are more man than he is. And as it is, I'm not sure I am woman enough to bear one," she whispered. "That is my shame, that perhaps I am not woman enough. Do you understand, Legolas? You have the power to realise or destroy our hope. Please don't prolong it unnecessarily."  
  
And Legolas nodded mutely. He understood perfectly. He realised the importance of it all, but still his heart would not let him speak. The child was his own, he had created it with his lover, and it was theirs alone, and he fought hard against his obligation to speak the name of his partner to his caregivers. No, that was one secret he vowed he would always keep mute on. As for the child...  
  
The child stirred restlessly in his arms and whimpered, and Legolas looked up at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I think he's hungry. Do you think you can nurse him?" she asked, instantly switching modes again. "One of my women had a child some months ago. But she produces so much milk it hurts if she doesn't extract what's left after her daughter is done feeding. She's been looking for a child to nurse for some time now. She would care for him well, Legolas, if only you would let her. She will willingly take care of him if given the permission."  
  
Legolas nodded and swallowed hard. "That would be good," he said hesitantly, and forced a smile for her benefit, but changed his mind and drew away as soon as she reached for the bundle in his arms. "No, wait!" he rasped, cradling his son protectively, much to her dismay.  
  
"Legolas, please."  
  
"No!" he cried in rising panic, before forcefully regaining a tight reign on his emotions. "No, Eowyn," he said, more calmly this time. "Please? I don't want to let him go. Please? I don't want him brought where I can't find him. I don't dare hand him to a woman I don't know. I'm sorry. It's so hard. It's just... too hard for me. I'm sorry, Eowyn. I am so, so sorry. But I can't do it. Please don't take him away from me."  
  
"It's alright," she crooned and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "I suppose I can always bring her here," she said, and sighed when she saw Legolas tense up again. "I'll swear her to secrecy, I promise. And she doesn't know you. She'll probably think you were one of the Elves from the colony. And even if she does recognise you as Legolas she'll probably think you're your sister, or cousin, or some blood relative. She won't know it's actually you. You don't have to worry. She won't talk, I'll make sure of it."  
  
Legolas stared at Eowyn for awhile, not quite daring to trust that things would work themselves out, but when the child wailed out in angry protest, he was quick to give his consent.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
By the time she returned with the nurse, the child was bawling it's head off. Eowyn could almost hear him from the common corridor! Thank goodness nobody visited this inner wing anymore, otherwise Legolas would never be able to keep his secret safe. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy oak door to Boromir's chamber and made to lead the other woman in, but froze at the sight that greeted her eyes.  
  
Legolas looked absolutely ghastly. He was beside himself, trying frantically to calm his newborn as tears of helplessness streamed down his face. He looked like he was shaking, but it has hard to tell while he rocked the child. When his eyes rose to meet hers, she felt a physical pain at the raw horror she saw there. He was loosing control.  
  
With a soft gasp of alarm, she flew across the room and threw her arms around him. "Hush!" she whispered as she held him tight. "Hush, stop it! Calm down. Relax. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Listen to me. It's okay. It's okay."  
  
"I can't nurse my son!" he whimpered. "I can't nurse my son!" Again and again he said it as again and again as he rocked with the weight of his distress. "I can't nurse my son," he wailed. "I'm such a monster."  
  
"No, no, you're not. Oh dear sweet Eru, you're not!"  
  
"Help me," he choked as he slowly regained his senses. "Eowyn, help me!"  
  
Eowyn wrapped her arms around his head and kissed the top of his hair. "It's alright. It's alright. I'm here. And I brought someone who can help you. I brought someone who can nurse your child. It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. It's alright. Just calm down." She pushed Legolas back and arms length away and smiled reassuringly at him.  
  
"This is Jenna," she said gently, turning to beckon to the wet nurse. "She's going to help you take are of your son. Is that okay, Legolas?" he nodded, and Eowyn felt herself taking a deep breath to release the tension within. "Come, that's it. Come on, let her carry him. Let her hold him for awhile. It'll be okay. Look at the poor dear, he's so hungry. Come on..."  
  
Slowly Legolas released his hold of the child, and Eowyn gently handed it to Jenna to tend to, and watched as the child latched on greedily. As for herself, she settled down again beside Legolas and held him reassuringly as they listened to Jenna's cheerful banter slowly putting them all at ease.  
  
After awhile, she became aware of a slight tremor running through Legolas' body, and looking down at him, was shocked to realise that he was crying silently into her shoulder. "Hush," she whispered, smoothening back his hair. "Hush now, it's okay. It's alright. Everything's just fine, Legolas. It's okay." She felt him nod and tighten his grip on her.  
  
"I'm scared," he whispered.  
  
"It's okay to be scared."  
  
"I'm so scared."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in all my life."  
  
"It's okay, Legolas. It's okay."  
  
"But I've never been so scared and it's scaring me!"  
  
"Oh, sweetheart..."  
  
"Don't leave me alone. Please don't leave me alone. I can't do it if you leave me alone."  
  
"I'm sorry. I won't."  
  
"Please."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, Legolas. I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Please?" he whimpered, clinging even more tightly to her, almost as if she would disappear from the face of the earth if he did not.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered, and cupped both her hands around his face, forcing him to look at her. "Legolas, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here for you. And I'm not letting you go through it all alone. Trust me."  
  
He nodded, his eyes still wide.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
Again he nodded, and this time she could feel the life slowly creep back into his features.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
And finally he smiled. "Yes, I trust you. Thank you."  
  
Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief as the colour returned to his face. "That's it," she smiled softly. "Now that's the Legolas we all know and love," she said and giggled. "Welcome back."  
  
And heaving a huge sigh of satisfaction, she snuggled up to him, cat-like, and he could almost imagine her purring in contentment. And even after Jenna handed his son back and left the room, they stayed close to each other.  
  
It was comforting. The other's presence reassured them, and the child's being gave them joy. He loved it. Her devotion made him feel warm all over. Warm and idle and complacent, and not realising it, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair. It didn't seem to bother her though, or perhaps like Legolas she barely realised what was happening. It was as if they were each enclosed in a soft cocoon of warmth and love, and nothing around them quite mattered. Nothing registered. It was like a dream. It was perfect.  
  
"Im mil lle, Eo--"  
  
And the perfection broke, and Legolas drew back, mortified at what he had murmured in a moment of weakness. Eowyn looked up at him confused.  
  
"What?" she asked. "What's the matter?"  
  
But no matter how hard she tried to press him, he would not tell her the meaning of the words, and at length she gave up. She knew she would not be getting any answers out of him, and it was becoming painfully obvious that her presence there was making him uncomfortable, and so after making sure that all possible needs were tended, she left him alone to enjoy his newborn in peace.  
  
But though she forced herself to forget, her mind was disturbed. What was it that unnerved him so greatly? What great secret did he utter that sent him spiralling down that path of cold aloofness again? She had thought he was opening up to them. Had she unwittingly slammed the door shut again? The thoughts swam inside her head, making her dizzy, making her ill until she decided to do something about it. But Legolas would not be persuaded to share with her, and she was not close to any other Elf. Aragorn would have knowledge of the language, and Gandalf, and many others, but... he had uttered something that should not be said. Something secret. Who could she trust to keep a secret?  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
"Eowyn! How are you, love? Ai, Elbereth, you look lovelier every time I lay eyes on you. Is it no wonder that Faramir is so smitten. Ah, my dear, you would make such a lovely bride."  
  
"My thanks, your highness."  
  
"So tell me, how are the preparations going? I hear it's madness in the kitchens. Is your dress ready, my dear?"  
  
"Almost, your highness. I just need to make a few alterations. It's a little too loose around the waist."  
  
"Well then you had better get it settled quickly. You have only for days left to the wedding after all," she said and smiled. "Oh, come now. Surely we know better than to be so formal."  
  
"And so it is. Arwen, I need your help."  
  
"Anything, my dear."  
  
"If I were to ask it of you, can you do me a favour? Can you keep a secret, even if it means keeping it from your husband? I need you to translate something, but I'm not sure if it is meant to be known. My heart tells me it might cause trouble, and that it would be better to just let the matter rest."  
  
"But you are curious. Very well. What do you want to know?"  
  
Eowyn hesitated. Now that the time had come for it, she was not quite sure she did want to know. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, and called back the words she had tried so hard to forget. "Im mil lle eo. What does 'im mil lle eo' mean?"  
  
For a moment, Arwen looked puzzled. And then understanding dawned, and it filled her with gay laughter. "It's not 'im mil lle eo'. It's 'im mil lle, Eowyn'," she exclaimed. "Oh my dearest, whoever said it must have backed out halfway. 'Im mil lle, Eowyn.' 'I love you.'"  
  
Eowyn felt her head snap back with the force of the news and staggered back, as if a physical hand had slapped her hard across her jaw. All unbidden, she felt tears rise to prick her eyes. "No," she whispered. "It can't be. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake."  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Eowyn sat in her room and looked out the window. In her hand was a bejewelled dagger, a family heirloom. She hated herself. She hated herself so much it was unbearable. She felt the icy coldness of the metal as it pressed against the soft flesh of her wrists, but though she toyed with the blade and drew it across her skin, she could not bring herself to draw her own blood. She wished she could. She wished she had the guts to do so. She was such a coward.  
  
Again she felt the tears come and take her until her whole body was overcome by her convulsive sobs. But nobody heard her from way up there. No sound passed through the thick stone walls. No sound escaped the heavy oak door. She was all alone in the world, and nobody even knew.  
  
Tears ran down her face. She could not help it. She did not even know why. All she knew was that she hurt inside, and the tears came to wash her pain away. But why did she ache so badly? Why was it such an agony for her?  
  
An image of Faramir rose in her thoughts.  
  
//That is Faramir,\\ she told herself. //That is the man I am going to marry. And I will marry him in four days time. He loves me, and he is a good man, and he made me fall in love with him. It is a good match. He will take care of me, and I will marry him. I love him. Really I do. I do, I do, really, I do. I love him. I love him. I do love him, so much. So very, very much. He is so precious to me. And I love him. With all my heart.\\  
  
And at that moment, she hated herself. She hated herself for crying. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and raised her dagger, and felt the sharp prick of the edge as it cut into her chest.  
  
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Whopie. Long chapter. Three breaks in the story, each break has a ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ sorta mark. I used to have chapter breaks with every break in the story, but I think all three breaks this time really does fit in as a single chapter. The whole thing is very much concerning Eowyn even though she's not the main, and that's another reason for a single extended chapter. I'm starting to miss writing through Leggy's eyes, and I hope hope hope hope that I will get more of him in the next chapter. By the looks of it, the post-birth drama might stretch up to what.. Say... three chapters instead of two? I seriously doubt I can wrap everything up with one more chapter.  
  
Oh, and guys. I've got a crazy dance schedule until my concert on the 18th feb, we're practicing almost every other day on top of school and essays and tests so I apologise in advance if I don't manage to make next week's update on time.  
  
Anonymous: Awww... Elrond and Aragron's reaction? I'm sorry to disappoint you dear. Large probability that they never find out it's leggy's kid.  
  
YES! The baby came! I'm so glad that you managed to post today...and two chapters, even! Thank you! I'm dying to see Elrond and Aragorn's reaction. Does this mean that we have to wait until next Monday for chapter  
  
9? Say it ain't so! Poor Legolas...I can't believe that he actually went through something like this. Faramir was funny, all through this situation...until the end, anyway. That was pretty mean, getting violent and then storming out! And now poor Legolas is left all alone! I wonder how he feels, physically. Hurry with chapter 9 please!  
  
MyGirlCrais: Oh yes, the hard bit IS telling everyone! Haha! But you can bet he's going to find a way out of it. Coming up next chapter. Leggy deals with the little problem of having a secret son. And wohoo, I just love the way you put it! (((And it sounded like he got knocked up in the woods))) cool! Well, as for daddy's identity, all might be revealed. I have an evil shock for all of them. But only might. It's subject to change...  
  
CandiX: yay! It's a boy! Though I'm starting to wish it was a girl because of the he/ she thing. Easier to differentiate between father and kid if they're of the opposite sex.  
  
Lobo Diablo: hoi! That's my fav man, I'll have you know. Grins. Oh well. ;D But then again, what makes you so sure it's Boromir? You could be just making a big mistake. Maybe Faramir and Eowyn are wrong? After all, Leggy never said anything... *grinz*  
  
JW7: yay! Thanks for the really long review! Yippie! yes, it's hilarious, isn't it? I just love poking fun at movie Legolas. I mean, he's soooooooooo fun to bully. I love anything which involves pushing him around, the poor sod. And Faramir's so nice it's kinda tempting to bully him as well. Oops. Ima nawthy liddle girl... And thanks for complimenting my style. I like it. Hehe. (fazy goes big-headed). Though I think my style kinda changes from situation to situation. It seems that I either do really monologue-style- impressionist passages or roleplay dialogues with little in between. Lol! I've been working on fleshing out the speaking bits though, so it's more than just stage dialogue. How Gimli will react? Hmmm.. never thought of that. He'd probably be so shocked he'd squirt his beer out of his nose or something. Hehe. And as for posts, I try to post one per week, so don't expect frequent updates. Good thing tho is that I really do put a deadline on myself and I usually start a new chapter every Monday.  
  
Tap Dancing Widow: ooooh, another one who wants to know the Fellowship's reactions. Hm. I guess you've just gotta wait and see, huh? But don't get your hopes up. Leggy still hopes to weasel his way out of it. He still doesn't want anyone to know. And oh, did you say 'Boromir'? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. What? What? I cant hear anything? *grinz*  
  
Samwise the Brave: weeeeeell, I have gotten a coupla flames so far. I used to get really hurt when that happened, but that was some time ago. Anyway, now whenever I get a review in my mailbox from a new reviewer I kinda mentally prepare myself for a flame. If the first line seems favourable, I relax. Otherwise I think "oh no, flamer!!!!" and brace myself for an awful slamming. Oh, and guess what? I AM FROM SINGAPORE! Hehe. I'm 21 this year, a malay muslim, taking lit and philo at nus and I love durians too. I actually wrote that bit as a way of introducing my penpal to the world of durians. You know, rather than a long boring description I did a role play instead.  
  
Deity of Sorrow: (((Deity: Go leggy! ^_^ Legolas: *glares at Deity* gr...))) Fazy: Hey you! Leave my reviewers alone! *throws bucket of water at Legolas* Man. I just hope that was MOVIE Legolas I just drenched. I get the feeling that book leggy might just turn homicidal... Or then again it could have been my leggy. Which would be a good thing. He needed a bath anyway. 


	10. chapter 10

Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. I actually had it ready Sunday night, but ff.net froze my account till today. *shakes fist at ff.net* Sorry bout the delay! ^_^;  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, maybe some kissing. why do I even bother with a warning this late in the fic?  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully..... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //..... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Legolas looked around his silent chamber... no, not *his* chamber. Boromir's chamber. How he wished he could take back those words. He felt so stupid! What had driven him to... but there was no use beating himself up for his mistake. There was nothing he could do to retract it. He only hoped Eowyn didn't understand him.  
  
Again and again he recounted the moments of his mistake with frenzied intensity like a thing possessed until he felt like he would go mad, and though he tried, he could not stop the whirlwind of his thoughts. Again and again, the moment replayed itself like a broken projector delighting in his agony.  
  
It was almost dawn before his thoughts gradually calmed it's pace before finally grinding solidly to a halt. He breathed a ragged sigh. It was over. His thoughts were his own again. Thank Elbereth. It was over.  
  
He felt suddenly weak all over. Muscles which were tensed tight just moments before turned to water as he felt the strength drain from him. Wincing a little, he flopped back into the fluffy warmth of the pillows and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, but just as he felt the welcome drowsiness overcome him, he was startled back into wakefulness by a soft tapping at the door.  
  
Tapping.  
  
That was a good way to describe it. It felt soft, and hesitant, almost as if the person were reluctant of being heard. Almost as if the person were afraid of it being answered. Legolas pondered for awhile. Was it a good idea to let whoever it was in? He was sure neither Faramir nor Eowyn would display such timidness around him, and from what little he had seen of Jenna, she seemed to bustling and energetic to knock patiently. Perhaps it was a stranger?  
  
He heard a soft intake of breath, uttered too softly for a human ear to catch, and at that moment, he was glad of his elven senses. It was a breath of pain, of anguish, the type that resonated from the soul.  
  
Whoever it was needed help.  
  
Pulling himself to his feet, Legolas made his way to the door and pushed the heavy bolts aside.  
  
"Eowyn?" he gasped in surprise. "What are you doing here? And..." His eyes took in her bare feet and her rumpled clothes, partially concealed by a large grey shawl she wore wrapped around her shoulders. In her eyes was the lifeless glazed look of a zombie. It was the face of someone who had ridden up to the gates of death and lived to tell the tale.  
  
"Eowyn," he said again, taking her firmly by the shoulders. For the first time, he saw the dagger she carried. "Eowyn, why are you carrying this?" he asked cautiously. "Give me the knife, Eowyn. Come on. Give me the knife."  
  
When she made no move to either use the knife against him or release her hold of the dagger, he reached down to pry it out of her grasp. He had thought that it would be an easy task. He was mistaken. For although she looked as frail and brittle as a dry leaf as she stared unseeingly into the distance, her hand refused to relinquish it's grip on the cool silver handle, and Legolas had to use every ounce of his already diminished strength to pry it loose. One he did however, a drastic change overcame her.  
  
It was as if a spell had been broken. Life snapped back into her eyes, and her lips parted to draw a deep gasping breath. Slowly, she turned to look at him, as at first horror, then resignation settled on her features. For a fraction of a moment, Legolas had the queerest impression of two Eowyns staring out of her eyes: one a proud, strong, dominant warrior, and the other a frightened child who never really grew up. And then it was gone, and she covered her face and wept.  
  
"Perhaps you should come in," he whispered, and gently led the way. He closed the door behind her and sat her down on the edge of the bed before removing her shawl, and was shocked to see the ugly red marks that stained her dress.  
  
"You're bleeding," he gasped, instinctively reaching out to undo her garment. "What happened?" He undid the ties of her dress and drew it down, and bit his lip as he examined the torn flesh beneath.  
  
"Lie down," he ordered firmly. Eowyn obeyed submissively, her large eyes following him across the room as he fetched a towel and a basin of water. She said nothing as he bathed her wound and staunched it with a fresh towel.  
  
"What did you mean to say, Legolas?" he voice when she spoke was soft and calm.  
  
"Nothing," he replied, not daring to meet her eyes. He was suddenly uncomfortably aware of his hand applying pressure to the wound on her chest. "Nothing."  
  
"Could you have meant to say 'I love you, Eomer'?" she mused idly. Legolas almost choked on his saliva.  
  
"Eomer?" he spluttered. "No..... no. Not Eomer."  
  
"And here I hoped so badly that it was." She sighed. "Who else, Legolas? Whose name was it supposed to be? Some Mirkwood elf, perhaps? A lover from your homeland? Anything to lay my heart to rest. Anything to suggest it was for someone else. But was it for someone else, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to say anything. But," he paused, a question nagging at the back of his mind. He checked her dressing. She had stopped bleeding. Good. Well, that was one load off his mind at least.  
  
"Why did you come here?" he asked finally. "Why me? Why didn't you go to Faramir?"  
  
Eowyn looked up at him for a long time, and sprawled on the bed with her hair spread out beneath her, Legolas once more perceived the child she hid within. They locked eyes for a long time, both gazing searchingly into the others eyes, both seeking answers for their inward turmoil. At length, Eowyn raised an arm and stroked his cheek softly.  
  
Legolas blinked in disbelief, stunned with surprise. By the time he had regained his senses, she had rightened her dress and shawl, and was walking towards the door. He blinked again. For a moment, he had allowed himself to hope, but her leaving now was almost too cruel.....  
  
"Eowyn," he rasped. "Are you toying with me?"  
  
His voice made her stop in her tracks. Slowly, she turned to face him. "No, Legolas," she whispered. "Are you?"  
  
He shook his head silently, sadly, and she nodded the same. There was to be no comfort for either of them.  
  
"Will you be attending my wedding?" she asked.  
  
"I will."  
  
"But it's in three days. You're not recovered enough."  
  
"Do you want me there? Or would you rather I stay away?" he asked.  
  
"I would appreciate it," she said, "if you did attend."  
  
"I'll make myself recover by then."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
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I should have seen this coming. I should have realised that I would never be able to finish everything just a few chapters after the birth, never mind that there are very little actual events and scene changes going on. I have a horrible way of stretching and going onandonandonandon.....  
  
I promised I'd have the wedding this chapter. Well, obviously I didn't. I promised the child would be named as well. It wasn't. And I promised Aragorn and Elrond would react. They haven't.  
  
Good news is that I seriously, honestly have everything worked out for the next two chapters. No more changes, the draft is already written. Chapters 10, 11 and 12 were planned as a single short chapter, but nooooooooo, fazy had to go and stretch it. Bah. Fazy had to slip in so many things into the story that tying it all up takes one heck of a lotta chapters.  
  
Anyway, the action plan: Chapter 11 is the day of the wedding. Eowyn does a freak out. Legolas makes a decision. Chapter 12 The wedding goes on. Leggy sets his plan in motion. The rest of the Fellowship gets a cameo. Faramir makes a decision. The baby is named. Chapter 13 sees a scene change to Ithilien. It also is set some months later. Hopefully everything will end there. Otherwise I might need another chapter for the Dramatic Ending.  
  
Mygirlcrais: Well, ada's identity isn't a main component of the fic. I would say it's actually rather unimportant..... I started writing not knowing who, and well.....  
  
Anonymous: Hehe. Poor Legolas..... I like the image of him as a mental disaster. Well, he's got his act together now, tho it's not the end of his troubles.....  
  
Mel: Sorry to hear school is awful. It's awful for me too. Things are picking up, and I've got mid term tests and essays and all. *haiz*. Bah, school.  
  
Tap Dancing Widow: Well, I guess the chapter answers your question, huh? Hehe. But as I said to Mygirlcrais, it doesn't really matter who Ada is. The fic's more interested in how the chacters act and react to each other.  
  
Lobo Diablo: Naw, I'm not that mean. I'm not like Peter Jackson. I don't kill of characters who were not meant to die. As for the fic, take it as happening in some sort of time vacuum. Things that happened stay happened, and at the end of the story it would be as if it never diverged from LoTR.  
  
Samwise the Brave: YAY! *gives STB a high five*! And yeah, there's not much slash. I mean, duh, conceivably there HAD to be some, else the poor guy would never have..... well. hehe. But I have nothing against slash. I even have a theory that girls love it because it lets them switch between the masculine and feminine aspects of sex, and that depending on the moment the reader can choose (note: CHOOSE) which role to slip into. And that gives the reader a sense of power, and the choice (again, choice) to be either the dominant or the dominated. (or maybe both.) And seeing that I am pro- choice, well, you draw the connections. I don't write slash tho. I find it harder to write. And man, you hit the nail on the head. It's due to post- natal stress/ confusion. But just because it's caused by that doesn't mean it wouldn't last..... hehe! And well, since you don't display ur email address even on your fic page, my msn is u0201874@nus.edu.sg. Add me in! (anyone else who's reading this is welcome to add me in as well.)  
  
Knight Kenobi of Eryn Lasgalen: Errr..... he had sex? *cheeky grin*  
  
Deity of Sorrow:  
  
Me: *stares at soaking Book leggy* O_O  
  
B. Leggy: Gr.....  
  
Me: Meep! *hides*  
  
(continued)  
  
fazy: Meep! *hides too*  
  
Voice From Cupboard (aka fazy): I thought you were movieleggy! Didn't mean it!  
  
B. Leggy: Bah. Do you know how expensive this suit is?!? It's hand-stitched Versache! 


	11. chapter 11

Here Be The Wedding. Muahahahahahaaaaaaa.....  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, maybe some kissing... why do I even bother with a warning this late in the fic?  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully..... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //..... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The day of the wedding dawned bright and lovely, and cheerfully oppressive. At least it seemed that way to Eowyn. She had never been so unsure of anything in her entire life, and she was certain that it showed in her face and expression.  
  
All around her the women bustled, making some last minute adjustments to her clothes, to her hair, rubbing soft cream into her arms and chest, sprinkling her all over with rose oil..... She felt suffocated. The fragrance of the oil choked her and the beauty cream made her feel like she was being coated in a thin layer of cold grease.  
  
They meant well, she was sure they did, treating her with venerability that befitted only the highest of royalty. Many of them actually *were* the queen's women, part of the elven company that Arwen kept with her, but their presence only unnerved Eowyn even more. She might have been born and bred as a noble, but she had never been from a truly wealthy house. She had never experienced such luxuries, and it unsettled her.  
  
She missed her sword, she realised with a shock. She never thought she would, but she did. She missed the adrenaline rush that brandishing a length of cold hard steel gave her. She missed the power it made her feel. And mist if all, she missed the masculinity that it entailed. All her life she had been trained to take on duties an ordinary noblewoman would never dream of having, duties of politics, of regent, of shieldmaiden and of caregiver, but it seemed as if her days in the sun would soon be over, and all her training would be put to waste. Would she ever be allowed to put her skills into use anymore?  
  
Once more, she thought of Faramir's new house of Ithilien and shuddered. Prince of Ithilien. Surely that was more formal than anything she was used to. She would have servants to oversee the household, and most likely servants to oversee those servants as well, and all the more manly affairs will be settled by the man of the house. There will be little for her to do but sit and sew. Would she even be allowed to take up a weapon again? She had heard that some houses thought it ill luck for a lady to bear arms. Would his house be one of them?  
  
And even if it was not, what of her? Would she be reduced to acting the part of a loyal wife and faithful companion to the prince? How could she undertake that helpless, stifling role and still retain that part of her soul that was so distinctly her?  
  
And what of children? She would have to bear him children, otherwise he would be forced to cast her away. It didn't matter if he still loved her or not, it would be as a duty to his house, and here Eowyn was stuck. What if all her days as taking on a masculine role had left her barren?  
  
Oh, her head swam with a million and one thoughts, each more distressing than the last, so that when one of the women dabbed some of that godawful cream onto her neck, she twisted free and screamed at everyone to leave her be. One by one, they filed out of her chamber, each giving her sympathetic looks and murmuring something about "the poor girl and her wedding jitters".  
  
Finally allowed some space to herself, Eowyn collapsed weakly onto her bed. Her bed. Her bedroom. Her private space. Soon it would all be taken away from her, and everything she owned would belong to Faramir. And he would own her, heart, body and soul. Part of her felt like ripping her dress off and shredding her headdress to pieces, but she knew that the only thing it would achieve would be to get her yet another unbearable grooming session, courtesy of the Rivendell waiting women.  
  
"Help me," she whispered to the silent walls. "Somebody, help me!" She felt tears prick at her eyes. //NO!\\ the thought, firmly swallowing any visible signs of her distress. Crying would only smudge the awful powder they had dusted her with, and then she would have to be made up yet again. The last thing she wanted was another dusting. And so there was nothing left for her to do but gather her dress about her and run all the way down to Legolas' room.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Back at last in his own personal chamber, the elf stared at his reflection in the glass. He looked good, he decided. Well, good enough to disguise his ordeal at least. Satisfied with his reflection, he turned to see his child, and found his eyes welling up with tears. His son! His precious son! He loved his son so much..... so much so that he was willing to do anything in his power to save the child from the wretched life Legolas had to offer him.  
  
He had made up his mind three days ago, shortly after Eowyn had left, and though it stabbed him to the soul, he knew he had little choice. His love for his son would force Legolas to let him go.  
  
He lifted the child from it's makeshift crib and cradled it for awhile, singing softly in elvish. He knew his son liked to be sung to, and so he did, even though the weight of his grief made every syllable choke him as it left his lips. "Oh, my love, my heart," he breathed. "Remember your Ada. Remember that your Ada loves you. Remember that he always will....." And though he had plenty more to say, he stopped, too overcome continue. "Oh my most precious little darling....."  
  
"Legolas!" Eowyn cried, pounding on the door. "Legolas! Legolas, open up! Open up NOW!"  
  
Legolas looked up and hurried to let her in, but not before he wiped his tears dry. It would not do to let anyone see him cry. Not even her. "What's the matter?" he called out, holding the baby with one hand as he worked with his other to push back the bolts. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for your wedding?" He somehow managed to slide the bolts back and swung open the door. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Eowyn entered without being asked and closed the door behind her. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be at the wedding!" she screamed. "You promised! You promised....." she trailed off wretchedly, her anger giving way to sobs. "You promised, you promised, you promised."  
  
"And I am," he said soothingly, cupping her face in his hand. "I will be. I'm getting ready," he said. "Shouldn't you be getting ready as well?"  
  
"I don't want to." she said. She looked like she was having trouble breathing. "I'm scared."  
  
Legolas sat her down and handed the child to her, knowing from her reactions these past four days what a calming effect his son had on her, and true enough, Eowyn soon quietened down. After awhile, a sunny smile played on her lips as she looked down into the tiny face in her arms.  
  
"Now tell me calmly, what's the matter."  
  
"I don't know. I don't want to get married."  
  
"But I thought you love Faramir."  
  
"I do. I don't know. At least, I think I do. But what if it's a mistake? What if I don't? What if I just think I love him? Oh, I don't know, I can't love him, it's impossible to be in love with two people at the same time, but then I do. I am," she said in a small voice. "I don't know what to do. Legolas, I feel so lost."  
  
"You belong with him, Eowyn. You were made for each other. Anyone who's ever seen you together would know that much."  
  
"But I love you..... well..... I think."  
  
"Hush, you think too much," he said, laying a hand on wound that rested above her heart. "Feel, Eowyn. What does your heart tell you?"  
  
"That I love you. And that I love him. But--"  
  
"No buts. Your heart doesn't lie," he said and kissed her. "It's perfectly normal for one heart to love two people, Eowyn. What else does it tell you?"  
  
"That he's waiting for me."  
  
Legolas smiled sadly. "Good girl."  
  
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Well, this is certainly an interesting fic to write. It felt like an odd cross between the rather liberal (tho power centred) Middle Earth of the books, the extremely liberal Middle Earth of the movies and the choking medieval climate of our reality. Really, it felt odd. Oh well, what can I say? Tolkien was a lit prof, not a historian or a sociologist, and some of the practices of his peoples were really out of sync with what I've come to learn about the past. And although I know that this IS a Tolkien fanfic, I felt inclined to go with the attitudes and practices of our world.  
  
By 'practices' I include stuff like how the birthing was carried out in chapter 8 (if any of you know of tolkienesque childbirth, PLEASE email me!), the treatment of women (so Eowyn is a little toned down, a little more weepy and sees herself mainly in relation to the men around her. But even the toned-down Eowyn would be outrageous modern/ feminist as a real world medieval chick.).  
  
In the next chapter, I'll be dealing again with the rights and position of women in marriage (she belongs to him, and she has no power of her own and so she speaks not as herself but as F's wife.), the idea of an average noblewoman as hostess rather than as politician (but as everyone knows, Eowyn being Eowyn is not an average noblewoman.) and the overall patriarchal atmosphere of the time.  
  
And no, I don't think I'm a feminist. I don't downright *resent* that it we used to have a patriarchal system. I just recognise to what extent that it was different, that's all.  
  
M'Ress: Awwww..... you don't like het? Hehe. *Fazy cracks brains* well, I guess if there's any consolation, there's not *that* much of it? Err..... then again, maybe that wont work. You can always see Eowyn and Legolas as belonging to a sort of cult or brotherhood or something. I know I do. It's like, the two of them constantly need to project an appearance of outward calm and strength, and that's incredibly draining on the soul..... think of it of more like a mutual support group. It isn't love the way it is with Eowyn/ Faramir or Legolas/ whoever-ada-is. But Legolas and Eowyn do develop a kinda funny sorta relationship tho.  
  
CandiX: Yay! glad u liked it! haha, and i'm glad u liked where it was going. i was afraid a lot of your guys wont! lol! haha. and more comming your way very soon. 


	12. chapter 12

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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, maybe some kissing... why do I even bother with a warning this late in the fic?  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully..... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //..... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 12  
  
"Open the presents!" the crowd cried, the generous flow of wine making the guests uncharacteristically bold. The newlyweds looked at each other and laughed gaily.  
  
"Why not!" Faramir cried merrily as his wife reached for the nearest parcel. He cast a glance around the lavish hall and sighed in contentment. Surrounded by all his dearest friends on his wedding day..... what more could a man ask for? His eyes fell on the cake, and he nearly laughed aloud again at the sight of the hobbits squabbling over the hefty remains, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there was far more than enough for all of the guests to have seconds and thirds. But they were having fun, and that was all that truly mattered to Faramir.  
  
It was amazing. He felt so much love in the room-- for his wife, for the people he had known and loved all his life, for his newfound friends, for the fellowship, for the king and queen, for Gondor, for his people, and with each gift handed to him, he felt his heart burst with joy. Everything was treasured, everything was lovely. It didn't matter if they were expensive, or exquisite or exotic even. It was the thought that filled him with such happiness.  
  
And his people! It was their contribution that perhaps touched him the most. A young peasant girl handed him a small bouquet of freshly picked (though slightly withering flowers), but by the dust on her dress and the sores on her feet, he could tell that she had walked far to find them. Another old couple came forth with an embroidered wall hanging, sewn specially for the occasion from whatever scraps they could find in the still-recovering Gondor, and he knew that she must have stayed up for nights on end, working by precious candlelight with her failing eyesight. He was awed by the gifts he received from them.  
  
"Faramir....." his wife whispered and touched his arm lightly. He was shocked to see how wide her eyes were, and how pale she seemed. "Look." He looked, and he too froze. She was holding a basket with a baby inside. With it came a note. "I know how much you love him," she read softly. "Oh, Faramir!" her voice trembled. "Faramir!"  
  
The whole hall fell silent. Faramir tried very hard not to look directly at Legolas. All eyes were on the couple, awaiting their next move, until Aragorn abruptly rose to his feet. "To my chambers," Aragorn said softly, though with such power that it resonated off the walls. "And bring the child with you."  
  
Knowing who he was referring to without having to be told, Faramir, Eowyn, the Fellowhip and Elrond rose and followed him out while Arwen and Galadrial remained behind to entertain the guests. Looking around, Eowyn realised that she was the only woman of the group and wondered she should feel honoured to be counted as one of the men or ashamed that she was not fulfilling a more womanly role.  
  
Aragorn settled down in the private chamber he used for attending special guests and looked around expectantly as everyone found a place to sit, or at least, a place to hover impressively.  
  
"I do not want a society where babies are treated as material possessions," he said at last. "And I just can't decide if what happened today was inhuman and cruel or simply based on blind ignorance."  
  
"Your mother handed you to Lord Elrond. You grew up as one of his children," Legolas said quietly.  
  
"Yes, but not as a gift." Elrond said. "He was fostered out to me because she felt that he would be safer as one of my sons."  
  
"Then perhaps that was what it's mother intended too," Faramir said in unexpected defence. "Perhaps the mother wants to give the child an opportunity for a better life."  
  
"But it can't be any more than a few days old!" Sam cried passionately. "It would not have even known his mother before it was ripped away and put into a new environment!"  
  
"A child should never be taken away from it's parents. How else can it feel secure?" Gandalf mused in agreement.  
  
"Well," Eowyn said slowly, carefully composing her thoughts. "Perhaps if it was intended to be fostered out to us, then it might be a good thing that the child doesn't know it's parents. Perhaps it was intended, so that it would develop an attachment for it's foster parents instead."  
  
"I can't believe you're all saying this!" Pippin cried. "It's wrong! You don't DO that to a child."  
  
"And the poor dear all alone there. It could have *died*!" Sam said again.  
  
"No," Faramir said. "It wasn't alone."  
  
"Faramir, no!" Eowyn hissed. Immediately all argument ceased.  
  
"It's mother was there," Faramir continued, ignoring Eowyn's glare and Legolas' anxiety. "I saw her. I saw her at the wedding. She must have been keeping watch all this time. And..... I think I saw her sister hovering near the presents just moments before Eowyn discovered the basket. So the child would have been safe. Relatively safe."  
  
//Sister?\\ Eowyn wondered, before she remembered seeing Jenna at the wedding as well. Legolas must have handed his son to Jenna just before he left, and she must have been the one who had slipped the basket into the pile.  
  
"So you know the parents?" Aragorn sighed heavily. "I have half a mind to punish them for such blatant disrespect of life."  
  
"No, Aragorn," Eowyn said sadly. "It must have pained it's mother greatly to let go of her child. She would never have done it unless she thought it were for the best. She felt herself to be unable to raise her child on her own."  
  
"Perhaps she wanted it to come into a proper family where it could be loved," Legolas said quietly. "Perhaps that was all she wanted for her child."  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. He looked up, first at Elrond, and then at Gandalf, and they both looked equally displeased. "What happened to the father?" he said at last.  
  
The couple looked at each other and shrugged. "Missing," Faramir replied. "We don't know what happened to him."  
  
"So I assume the child is a bastard then." Aragorn said thinly, and Faramir thought he saw Legolas wince at the words.  
  
"I would adopt him," Faramir said at last. "I would take him as one of my house. Honestly and truly, I would."  
  
Aragorn shook his head and sighed, "That's not the point," he insisted, but after some more minutes of bantering, it was settled. The King would recognise the child as a member of the House of Ithilien.  
  
"So does he have a name?" Elrond asked wearily. The couple shook their head, then glanced quickly in Legolas' direction. The elf nodded slightly. "So what are you going to call him?"  
  
"Boromir," Faramir replied instantly. Legolas nearly choked, and by the looks of it, so did Eowyn. She recovered quickly though, and elbowed him so soundly that he yelped out in pain.  
  
"You did that on purpose!" she hissed angrily into his ear. "Are you never going to give the guy a break?"  
  
"Well if HE didn't name it and gave it to us then as the foster father I have every right to name it anything I want," he hissed back.  
  
Eowyn stared at him in complete revulsion. "I thought better of you, Faramir," she snarled. "But perhaps I was mistaken."  
  
"Okay, alright," he gave in. "What do you want me to call him?"  
  
"I don't know! I know sure as hell I wasn't expecting this!"  
  
"And you think I was?"  
  
"I never said that."  
  
"Alright then, what about Oremir," he sighed. "It's an elvish name, 'heart jewel', I think it means, or something like that, so he'll be happy about it. It sounds Gondorian, and it's enough like my brother's for my satisfaction. Happy?"  
  
Eowyn covered her face. The celebrations were not even over and already they were fighting. She couldn't take this. "Whatever," she said noncommittally and sighed. "Anything you want."  
  
Faramir looked up at the sea of faces in front of them and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Maybe we should decide a different time?"  
  
And Eowyn had to laugh. She punched him in the shoulder and fell into his arms. "No, Oremir, sounds good. Truly it does, and for all the reasons you gave. But..." she trailed off. "Do you think it might hurt him?" she asked, concerned.  
  
"I don't see why. If it is my brother's son then why shouldn't he be named like his father, and if he isn't, then well, I really don't see what the problem is either way. Besides, I get the feeling it's an auspicious name."  
  
"Why not?" She smiled and looked down at the child. Come to think of it, he really did look like an Oremir. "Why not?" she said again. "I think it's lovely."  
  
"Then Oremir it is," Faramir said out loud to all in the room. He saw Legolas nod his consent and smiled.  
  
"Then Oremir it shall be," Aragron sighed heavily. "From this moment on, Faramir and Eowyn of Ithilien accept child Oremir as your lawful son. He shall take on the name, the colours and the emblem of your house, along with all the rights and preveledges that it entails. And until your firstborn son, he will be the heir to your house and heir to all the titles that come with it. Now with the council as your witnesses, Elrond of Rivendell, Gandalf the White, Legolas Thranduillion, Gimli son of Gloin, Frodo Baggin, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Pereagrin Took and myself....." he sighed wearily again. It was no secret that Aragorn regarded such formalities as a necessary evil. "Aragorn son of Arathorn, King of Gondor and Arnor, you have my leave to claim him as your own."  
  
"As foster father, I claim him as Oremir, son of Faramir. He shall take on the name, the colours and the emblem of my house, along with all the rights and preveledges that it entails. And until my firstborn son, he will be the heir to my house and heir to all the titles that come with it."  
  
"And as his wife, I claim Oremir, son of Faramir as my own, to raise, to nurture and to share in the name, the colours and the emblem of my husband's house."  
  
Aragorn stood up. "Then so be it. He is your son. Take care of him well, my friends," he said before excusing them of his presence. _______________________________________  
  
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mel: hey man, is this moderately frequent enuf for you? *grinz* Legolas' mutually supportive relationship with Eowyn might seem just right now, but hold on tight, it's going to change. So now you know what happens to the kid. And how the rest 'react'. (3 guesses why I always put 'react' in inverted colleens.)  
  
deity of sorrow: er..... *thinks* no, I don't know how to continue. Unless I trip Bookleggy up as he chases Deity, but that would just get him breathing down my neck. Maybe I can get Thranduil's help? Leggy-weggy is scared of Ada, isn't he. *evil grin*  
  
samwise the brave: haha. Guess your question is answered, eh. Eowyn does know. Lol! She cant possibly not seeing that it's been fostered out to her. (3 guesses why I had her hold the child last chapter.) From his point of view, he doesn't have much of a choice but to give Oremir away. I mean, we all know he has other options, but can he see it?  
  
candiX: weeeeeeellll..... it's more like this was meant to be mainly mpreg, but it's stretching to post drama, and a lot of post drama. And it's shifting in focus. It's starting to move towards a bit of het. But don't worry. Legolas will have a scene with his lover (Oremir's dad) before the story is done. The exact nature of the scene however will be rather unexpected.  
  
Tap dancing widow: ooooh, but I can, and I have. Muahahahaha. But at least Oremir wasn't given to a complete stranger. And he doesn't totally disappear from out princeling's life. I mean, come on, it's Eowyn and Faramir. How distant do you think they can get? Tho they *do* live away from Gondor..... muahahaha. 


	13. chapter 13

Here be there het.  
  
=D  
  
Anonymous: oooh, chappie 13 up. yeah, I'm doing review responses before the fic cos there's no point in doing it after for chappie 13. it'll change everything. And yeah, he did give it to Eowyn n Faramir. It was a rather new idea tho..... I only thought of it after Junior was born. Lol! But it works and the twisty turnies get even twistier and twistier.....  
  
Mel: simple. They don't. oh, actually Aragorn does, right at the very end of this chappie, but he isn't given a chance to react at all. Nobody will ever know it's leggy's kid. Yes, I am evil. =P  
  
Tap Dancing Widow: hmmmm..... well, good point. But then again, the Galadrial of the books was rather domesticated. I mean, I remember that she played a part in weaving or sewing the cloaks that the Fellowship wore. Back in the medieval times, the women of nobility did just about that. They'd sew, they'd manage their husband's household and they'd entertain guests. That was their main role. The galadrial of the movies is such an enlightened chick she kicks book galadrial's butt. Hmmm..... the meeting didn't really concern her, did it? I had Aragorn call out the Fellowship cos they are the people he would have been most intimate with over the past few months, and Elrond cos he's always struck me as Ada's liddle boy. The only reason Faramir and Eowyn were there was cos the kid was given to them.  
  
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. And MUAHAHAHA, There is a small little 'sex scene' at the very start.  
  
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully..... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.  
  
And as before, //..... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Eowyn's breath came fast and shallow as her body swayed to the rhythm of his thrusts. Her lips were parted, her eyelids fluttered. "Legolas," she gasped breathily, as she clawed the smooth of his back. But though he was tempted to do the same; to dig his nails deep into her shoulders or to sink his teeth into her porcelain skin, he dared not. He dared not leave the slightest mark on her body for Faramir to see.  
  
Three years had passed since the wedding, three whole years since Legolas had surrendered his rights over his son, and for three long years, he had watched Oremir from afar as the child blossomed into a healthy toddler. That the boy was a peredhil was plain to see: his features declared him to be an elf, but his development was that of a human child. Well, slightly slower than a human child actually, and Legolas could sometimes sense Oremir's frustration as he struggled to learn more about the world around him than his mental capabilities would allow at so tender an age.  
  
The couple had neither the heart to keep him from his son, nor to deny Oremir his true father, and as a kindly gesture, they welcomed him into their Ithilien home. They were unthinkably good to him, and Legolas knew that. They even let Oremir address him as 'Ada'. It was a hollow phrase to Oremir though. The boy did not realise it's elvish meaning, and to his son it was no more than a name, but the elf was grateful for even that small concession.  
  
Legolas felt his thoughts drawn forcibly back to the present as a tightening in his body heralded his oncoming climax. And Eowyn read the signs. Reaching upwards to draw his head down, she sealed her lips tightly across his, forcefully muffling the sounds of their passion.  
  
Much as they would have loved to linger in each other's arms, they parted hurriedly and straightened themselves, although Legolas allowed himself to relax momentarily as he watched her don her dress. The melancholy that so became her during the war still remained etched upon her features, but this time it had a different cause.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered as she sat down on her bed. She pushed aside her hair and waited patiently as he redid the ties of her garment, then gave him a small smile when he kissed her. "Legolas," she began again. "What we're doing....." she trailed off hollowly before letting her eyes fall to the floor. "It's treason."  
  
And Legolas nodded. He too felt empty. There was no joy in them left, only hurt. "Maybe we should stop," he said quietly, even though he knew that they couldn't. They had tried. Elbereth knew how hard they had tried, but it never lasted. They were both too emotionally needy to do so. "Does Faramir know?"  
  
"He does," she replied. "And that's the worst thing of all." Her voice when she spoke had regained some feeling to it, and her whisper was like a trembling breath. "I tried to tell him last night. I couldn't bear to keep it from him any longer. But he wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let me say anything. I feel so guilty. Legolas, he could have wept when I tried to tell him. I could see the unshed tears in his eyes."  
  
"And?" he asked gently, his voice soft but dead.  
  
"I couldn't say it. I didn't. I couldn't. He's my husband."  
  
"Perhaps the kindest thing to do then is to let him carry on with his pretence."  
  
"But he knows. We're all acting, all three of us. It's like we're acting out a play, and we have no control over the script. It's ruining our lives, and all three of us know it, but..... we cant break out. No matter how hard we try, something keeps holding us back. And then we stop trying. Because it's no use. And so it continues."  
  
And Legolas nodded. He knew the feeling all too well. How he hated it. But he felt as powerless as her to put an end to the cycle of decay.  
  
"The lies. The pretence," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The whole wretched act......" she paused to steady herself for awhile, then gave up and covered her face, and Legolas watched helplessly as she sobbed quietly for awhile before she wilfully regained control of her demeanour. "He doesn't let himself believe it," she continued, her voice now hard with repressed emotion. "He won't let me say the words."  
  
Legolas looked away and sighed. He felt rotten to the core. "I don't blame him."  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
At the age of four, Oremir was learning to ride, and although the child was rather slow in other aspects of his development, interacting with horses was something that came naturally to him. The pony he owned was his own, gifted to him as a baby by his parents as a celebration of his adoption. It was a charming little thing with a gleaming honey coat and kind dark eyes, and Oremir adored it to bits.  
  
Already he could trot along on his own. Every day, Eowyn would saddle his horse and mount him on it, and then watch as he cantered about the little training ring that Faramir had had built for him. Slowly, as the child's confidence increased, Oremir grew bolder. He would often test his mount for it's speed, and gave his mother a great many flutterings of the heart as he barrelled wildly across the open gardens.  
  
And then came the day he was to ride out with his father. For months before that, Oremir had begged and begged in that kiddy voice of his to accompany Faramir on a hunting expedition, till finally his wish was granted. But seeing that their child was still rather inexperienced, the couple had decided against a proper hunt. For his first expedition out in the open countryside, Oremir watched his father birding with a hunting hawk while he trotted obediently alongside his ever-watchful mother.  
  
The hunt passed without incident, as did the next, and the next, and many hunts after that, and gradually the couple began to relax. By then, Oremir's skill on a horse was clear for all to see, a situation which Faramir teasingly declared to be worthy of any Rohirrim, and before long, Oremir had become a regular face in the Ithilien hunting party. And although initially Eowyn made it a point to ride with him during proper hunts, her health prevented her from joining them very often.  
  
And she was always ill of late. It was as if the illness of her spirit had manifested itself physically in her diminishing strength, and she was growing weaker by the day. The strength of her spirit had broken and Faramir watched helplessly as the life drained out of her. Once again, she walked around with the glazed, pained expression that had first caught his attention in the Houses of Healing all those years ago. It seemed to him that she floated around like a ghost.  
  
One day as she wandered aimlessly down the endless corridors, she heard a commotion in the courtyard, shortly followed by a woman's high pitched shriek. "Eowyn!" she suddenly heard Faramir bellow out from down below. "EOWYN!"  
  
The urgency of his calls made her snap out of her trance, and as she gathered her skirts about her and ran towards the sound of his voice, she wondered was wrong. Just as she broke free of the main building however, she felt a multitude of hands anxious hands holding her back. "No, your grace," the faceless voices murmured. "You mustn't go there! That is no sight for a lady."  
  
The words sent shivers down her spine. "What happened?" she whispered, dreading an ill reply.  
  
"It's the young lord, your grace. He's had a hunting accident."  
  
Images of Oremir, frightened and in pain, flashed before her eyes. For in instant, she froze, with the shock of it all, but then a madness overcame her, and she struggled and thrashed against the hands that held her down.  
  
"No!" she cried. "Let me go!"  
  
"You mustn't," the voices replied. "The sight would surely kill you, your grace. It is no sight for a fine lady."  
  
"I am no fine lady! I am a shieldmaiden of Rohan," she cried as she finally broke free of them. By then, the procession of solemn, ashen faces had disappeared the building. They were probably carrying the injured lord to his chambers, and steeling herself, Eowyn hurried after them.  
  
She found her husband kneeling by Oremir's bed, and although he tried to hide it from her, she could read the raw horror on his face. "Is he dead?" she whispered. Faramir shook his head. Hardly daring to look, she sat down gingerly on the side of the bed and carefully lifted the covers.  
  
She would remember the sight for the rest of her life.  
  
Oremir lay silently on the bed, still and unconscious as the living blood drained out of his slight, frail body. His hands and face were red with scratches, and across his stomach was an ugly gash.  
  
"How?" she whispered, almost afraid to break the sacred silence. "And where is everyone? Why is nobody treating him! What happened to the churigeons? Save him!" Faramir shook his head helplessly. How could he tell his wife that the doctors had already given up hope?  
  
Eowyn saw his face. "They're leaving him to die..... aren't they, Faramir."  
  
"There's nothing they can do."  
  
"They're leaving him to..... die....." she whispered, stunned, and then burst into tears. Before she knew it, Faramir was hugging her hard, shaking with the weight of his pain as he too wept in big gulping sobs. They clung desperately to each other and wailed, but Eowyn was the first to quieten herself.  
  
"What about Legolas," she intoned. "Call for Legolas. It's his son. He needs to know."  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Back in Gondor, Legolas sat at the table and played with his food. His appetite had vanished. Somehow or other, he could not shake off the feeling that something was deathly wrong. He sighed and picked up his spoon again, but again, all he did was to push the vegetables around on his plate before setting his spoon down. What was wrong with him today? He wasn't usually this distracted. Reaching out, he grabbed his goblet and downed its contents, then sat it back down.  
  
The4 goblet clicked loudly as it made contact with the table.  
  
What was wrong? All around him, people were laughing and talking brightly as they enjoyed their meal, but their gaiety felt odd and out of place to him. Something was wrong. He just knew it.  
  
He saw Aragorn rise from his place to join him. "I know that face, Legolas," the king asked quietly. "What do you sense?"  
  
Legolas arranged a small smile. "I have no idea," he said. "I just feel..... that something's amiss."  
  
Aragorn smiled reassuringly, and looked as if he were about to say more when a messenger burst into the great hall and fell at Legolas' feet. The elf recognised him as one of the higher ranking officials of Faramir's army.  
  
"A message from Ithilien," the man gasped to Legolas. He still had not noticed the king presently seated to Legolas' right. "Lord Oremir is dying."  
  
The news dealt Legolas a physical blow, and he doubled over with the force of it. //Oremir? Dying?\\ Legolas looked up, looked around, but it seemed the whole world had swam out of focus. Sounds were blurred and heavy, the very air itself seemed to grow thick, and everyone moved as if they struggled through a heavy translucent liquid. His whole world stopped for an instant.  
  
Oremir? Dying? Impossible! Legolas had just returned from Ithilien barely a month ago, and when he had left, Oremir was a playful, bubbly, contented child. His son was in the pink of health. How could this be?  
  
Dying? Lies! All lies! It could not be. It must not be! How can it be? The boy was so young, so young, just a child..... a healthy, happy child. Didn't Eowyn and Faramir take good care of him? Didn't he have enough to eat? Didn't he live his days surrounded by love from his adoptive parents? He could not die. He must not die!  
  
Legolas raised a hand to his throat. "What happened?" he choked.  
  
"The young lord was injured in a hunting accident. He doesn't have long to live. You must hurry if you want to reach him in time. He might already be dead. I'm sorry, your grace. I wasn't able to save him. A boar spooked his horse, and young as he was, he fell off. I tried to help him, truly I did, but the boar got to him first. There were so many of us, and we tried, we really did, but..... his screams, your grace..... they were terrible. He screamed out for his father, but mostly for his mother and his ada. Oh, your grace....."  
  
Legolas could see the tears in the messenger's eyes. He knew the man loved the young lord with god-like devotion. That was the way with his son. Wherever he went, Oremir was surrounded by people who adored him. By people who would give their life for him.  
  
And he was dying.  
  
He felt Aragorn looking at him, shocked. "Ada? Oremir's your son?"  
  
"Yes, Aragorn," he whispered in elvish. "My son. I birthed him."  
  
"Your highness!" The messenger breathed, finally noticing the king. "Your highness, please help us. You have the healing hands of the king. You healed Lord Faramir and his lady when everyone else had given up hope, maybe you can heal Lord Oremir as well. I know I have no business asking favours of your highness, but please. I beg of you. I love the young lord. I can't tell you how much joy he brings to the entire estate. Please, your highness, help us."  
  
"I don't know what I can do."  
  
"Aragorn," Legolas begged. "I can't loose him, Aragorn. Please. At least try. Help him. He's my son, Aragorn. Don't let him die. Please don't let him die. I can't loose him."  
  
Aragorn nodded briskly. "Get the horses ready," he ordered. "We're leaving immediately."  
  
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okay, okay, I'm evil. The sex scene was to show the degeneration, that all three of them are just living a lie. I'm not making a judgement about pre/extra marital sex. Sometimes things happen, that's part of life, live with it. But the point of this is that they are doing it for all the wrong reasons. Their emotional needs are not met, they're both miserable, and for them it's a form of escapism. They might as well be doing drugs, they way they approach their affair. They're doing drugs, they're literally addicted to it and they both need help.  
  
Also, I totally crapped about a peredhil's development. I'm pretty sure a peredhil grows up like any ordinary elf, but that if that was the case then Faramir and Eowyn would grow old taking care of him and it's would fit with the plot so I twisted the thing a little. Okay, okay, I twisted it a lot. Gomen! ^_^; 


	14. chapter 14 aka The End

OoooooOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOOoooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!  
  
The day has finally come.  
  
The last chapter.  
  
*gasp*  
  
But yes, this is the last chapter of Life. It's been long overdue, and it's about time I packed it away and gotten on with my real life, and it should be a relief to have ended it so I can finally start to concentrate on school, (and it's about bloody time! My grades are slipping!) but *sigh*..... I feel so rotten..... there's this emptiness within me..... (wah, so melodrama)  
  
A big, huge, enormous, gigantic thank you to all of you, especially those of you guys who never tire of sending me reviews. You've brightened up my life. Thank you so much for the blessing of having you read my fic. It has been such an honour writing for you, and I would like to thank you for all the little miracles that you have left in my inbox every now and again. =D  
  
Anonymous: yupyup, Legolas *will* be devastated if he dies, wont he? Awww...... you wanna give him a huggle, the poor dear? Awwww..... (at this point fazy notices movieleggy giving her a Death Glare and quickly stops talking about huggling. Fazy makes the sign of warding against the evil eye. Begone, movie incarnation, and leave this fic in peace!)  
  
Mel: every single thing you commented should happen gets it's fate decided in this chappie, so I wont even try to answer that cos to do so is pretty pointless..... *grinz*  
  
Tap Dancing Widow: Oh, surely I'm not *entirely* evil? *blink, blink* Er, you might not want to take my word on that. Especially after the first line. But really, it's not all evil-ness. There *will* be sweet bits, I promise. Really. =D  
  
Ode2joy: erm... much apologies. Pray, do not make real your threat. *innocent smile, blink, blink, blink*  
  
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Warning: Long Chapter. But that's okay, cos it's also Last Chapter as well, so you can either bulldoze through and get all those irritating little nagging questions answered (or maybe not answered), or you can go slow and stretch it to last. Either way, it's still 14 pages worth of Times New Roman, about 3x the length of an average Life chappie.  
  
And as before, //..... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)  
  
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Life!  
  
The party from Gondor never reached him in time. Even Legolas, who had ridden on ahead was too late. By the time he arrived, they were readying Oremir's body for his funeral.  
  
Anyone else would have wept. Anyone else would have been beside themselves with grief, but Legolas felt strangely hollow. It was as if he had stepped out of his body, and was watching his movements from a distance. He said nothing. He felt nothing. It was as if he had drawn a complete blank, even when there was some confusion about the funeral. Nobody knew which rites to perform, and Legolas would say nothing, and so they performed the rites of all three of Oremir's peoples.  
  
The body was brought back to Gondor to rest with others of his adoptive house.  
  
And even then, Legolas could not bring himself to cry. It was as if the part of him that lived and felt had died along with his son, and Legolas avoided the entire Ithilien party throughout their stay in Gondor. In fact, it was not just the Ithilien party whom he avoided. For the next few months, he shut himself up like a hermit, leaving his chamber only when forced out by starvation or need. Then as the months passed, he slowly shed his shell and reluctantly returned to the bosom of society, but even then he was quiet, and kept to himself a lot more than was usual for him. He went about his life as per normal, but the spark was gone, and his senses dulled, until one day, he received a letter from Ithilien.  
  
Eowyn had written to him to share the news of her pregnancy, and had begged that he be there when her time drew near. He thought at first of disregarding her letter, of pretending perhaps that it had never reached him, but the memory of how she had supported him all those years ago made it impossible to refuse her request.  
  
The couple greeted him when he arrived at their gates some months later, and the sight of Eowyn smiling and heavy with maternity was almost enough to bring him back into his body. Almost enough, but not quite. Grief and depression hit him so hard the moment he allowed himself to feel that he instantly retreated back into the hard shell he had built around his heart. It was so much easier to dissociate himself once more from his emotions, and live each day as if it didn't matter. He talked and laughed with his hosts as before, but it was little more than an empty display: there was no feeling left behind his smiles. He was so weary that he had not the strength left to feel anymore.  
  
And so the weeks came and went till at last came the day of the birthing. Or days of the birthing, more like, for Eowyn's labour was unbearably stretched. For some reason or other, her women had allowed him entry to a place strictly forbidden to men. Perhaps they felt the effects of superstition only with regards to human men? Or perhaps they attached a different set of standards to elfkind? Then again, perhaps the entire House had suspected Eowyn's secret lover? Could it also be that the servants knew that Legolas had bore a child before? Or maybe it was that they simply confused his delicate beauty as that of a female, he didn't know. All he was aware of was the privilege of being accepted into that sacred circle of women.  
  
Legolas held Eowyn in his arms as they sat together in the birthing room, dabbing away her perspiration with a damp rag as the other women sat and chattered. Occasionally, one of them would get up and check on Eowyn, or offer her something to ease her way, but for the most part, the two of them were left alone. Legolas for once did not blame them. It had been two days now since her pains had started, but she still seemed no nearer to the actual birth, and the other women were quickly growing bored.  
  
//It should be Faramir that's keeping her company, not me,\\ he thought. That husband and wife had grown even closer since Oremir's death was obvious, and with his keen hearing, Legolas could hear Faramir pacing uneasily outside the corridor. Every now and then, the man would be called away to tend to state affairs, or be dragged away to indulge in food and alcohol by well-meaning friends who tried to distract him from his anxiety, but always the man would return.  
  
He felt Eowyn stiffen and cling on to him even more tightly. "Faramir," she whimpered. "Legolas, where's Faramir?" she asked then shut her eyes and moaned terribly.  
  
"It's alright, child. He's outside, waiting for you," he answered for what felt like the millionth time that day.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"He's worried. He'll hardly leave his post," he said her, but though she nodded and was reassured, it wasn't very long before she was asking for her husband again.  
  
And so on it went as the hours crawled slowly by. The shadows grew long, and the sunlight dimmed. Torches were lit as the room grew dark, and the woman looked at each other worriedly and wondered if she could pull through a third night of labour.  
  
As for Eowyn, she wept. She was so tired that she could hardly hold herself up anymore, and still the end seemed nowhere in sight. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but the pains prevented her even a moment's rest. Pushed beyond her limit, she clung to Legolas' neck and wept with exhaustion.  
  
It was a welcome relief to all when the true labour started, but it had come so late that everyone was afraid she had not the strength left in her, and the rising panic in her eyes said it all. The baby was stuck fast, unable to return to the womb but too large to be pushed out, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not get it to budge. //She's going to die,\\ Legolas thought with certainty. //She's going to die in my arms and there's nothing I can do about it.\\  
  
In an instant, all the other deaths rose to torment him, deaths of his friends and comrades, deaths of his Mirkwood cousins, deaths of those that fought in the alliance, deaths of those who fell to disease..... he could remember the looks on the faces of the dead, the eyes of the dead staring emptily out of the soul's abandoned sockets, the cold clamminess of grey skin when the living blood has stopped flowing.....  
  
He remembered the more recent deaths during the quest, re-living the horror of war, or loosing Boromir, and later during the days of peace, of loosing his son. Oh, how he had lost! And now, he was about to loose another close to his heart.  
  
//The child is afraid to be born.\\  
  
The thought came to him unbidden, but the moment it spoke, he knew it to be true. He also knew what he had to do to save them. Placing a warm hand on her swollen abdomen, he closed his eyes and let his energy flow through the warmth of his palm as he tried his utmost best to soothe both mother and child.  
  
"Send love to your child," he told Eowyn. "Talk to it if you must, but let it know that it's wanted. Trust, and all will be well."  
  
Eowyn nodded, and started whispering, wild, rambling thoughts, but though her fatigue prevented her from thinking straight, the message being it was clear; that already their unborn child was the most precious thing in the world to both her husband and herself, and that there was nothing they wanted more than to be gifted with the opportunity to love their child.  
  
And somehow, mother and child pulled through. "It's crowning, your grace," her women crooned when the baby's head finally emerged. "Your grace, you're almost there. Just a little bit more....."  
  
And exhausted as she was, she felt a strange connection with her unborn baby. It was as if they became one of spirit. They understood each other, and the understanding gave them both unspeakable joy, and she felt her heart sing within her even as the child slid free of her body.  
  
Over in the corridor, the strangled wail of a newborn greeted Faramir's ears. He pounced anxiously for the door, only to find it locked, and pounded on it impatiently before throwing propriety out the window and breaking the door off it's hinges.  
  
As the wooden divide fell before his eyes, he was brought into another world. The hot air from the room hit him in the face, as did the smells of the birth, and he froze, suddenly uncertain. He heard the soft moans coming from his wife, and took in the silent efficiency of the women bustling about, and was suddenly filled with dread. What if something awful had happened?  
  
He looked up to see Legolas beckoning to him, and he hurried over, relieved at being given something to do. Following the elf's lead, he sat down beside the mattress Eowyn had been shifted to and took her gently by the hand. Immediately, her eyes fluttered open and a smile played across her features, setting his heart at rest. With his free hand, he reached out and stroked her damp cheek.  
  
"How are you?" he whispered. She smiled her reply, too tired to say anything. "You look terrible."  
  
"She's had a tough time. You should let her rest," Legolas said, and Faramir nodded obediently. Still, that didn't prevent him from leaning in to kiss her.  
  
"And how about the child?"  
  
"We don't know yet," Legolas said, gesturing to the women. "They'll tell us soon."  
  
Again Faramir nodded and turned back to his wife. He kissed her again and stroked her hair adoringly, and Eowyn smiled and held his hand warmly in both of hers. Not long after, the elderly midwife congratulated them on being blessed with a son, and handed it to it's father. Faramir very nearly dropped his infant in awe. "Eowyn," he whispered as he stared transfixed at the precious bundle in his arms. "Oh, Eowyn....."  
  
She struggled up for a first glimpse of her newborn, and seeing her effort, Legolas piled up the pillows and gently helped her lean back into her new support before allowing Faramir to pass the child to her. Instantly, her fatigue seemed to vanish as they gazed upon their son in undisguised delight.  
  
And Legolas stepped back. He knew now that he no longer belonged there. In her family, Eowyn had finally rediscovered her strength, and she had no more need of him as a source of support. He didn't belong here anymore. He was not needed. Not anymore. Wordlessly, he slipped out of the room, gathered his belongings and set off on his return journey to Gondor.  
  
All the way back, his heart was heavy. Images of the three kept flashing through his mind; of mother, father and child wrapped in embrace, their warmth and joy striking hard at the unbearable hollowness in his heart. For the first time since Oremir's death, he felt the beginnings of tears prick at his eyes, but still they refused to fall. He couldn't cry. He just couldn't, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he even remember how to.  
  
As if in a trance, he felt himself drawn like a magnet towards his son's resting place. The walking dead..... yes, that was what he was. One of the walking dead, and even the guards seemed to realise that, for they made no attempt to block his passage to the tomb. Let him go, they must have thought. He might as well be one of them anyway. Let him rest with the rest of the spirits.  
  
He stumbled unseeing along the dark hallways, even though his elven eyes adjusted to the darkness the way no ordinary mortal's could. He walked blindly, letting his feet lead the way until he stood over the mound under which where his son lay. They had buried him as was the newer way of the people, and a part of Legolas was thankful of it. The very idea of his son's body up in flames was too painful a thought to even dwell upon, and his secret heart was glad the child was not cremated.  
  
Without warning, he felt his knees give way, and he fell heavily onto the grave. And finally, finally, the tears came. Clutching his head in agony, he screamed and wailed with complete abandon as he writhed in the dust, and even when his tears had been used up, he covered his eyes and keened. "No!" he screamed long and hard to the hollow emptiness around him, the strength of his emotions making him rise once more to his knees. "No!!!!"  
  
He screamed and screamed until he ran out of breath, and then fell bonelessly back to the ground. Slowly, he felt his tears rise again, but they were tears of utter hopelessness this time. His anger and defiance was spent, and all that was left was that hollow, empty feeling again. There was nothing left in him to feel.  
  
He felt the cold creep up his fingers and toes, a piercing icy presence that seemed to claw it's way mercilessly up his body. It was his life force was leaving him, he sensed it, and knew with a cold certainly that was dying. It didn't matter, though. He had nothing left. There was nothing left for him in life but pain and heartache, and he welcomed his approaching death with open arms. //Let it come, \\ he thought, too drained to even mouth the words. // Ai, Elbereth, have mercy on me. Let it come.\\  
  
He felt a shudder of breath echo through the walls, and then the ghost of a touch run through his hair. A wave of misery he knew was not his washed over him.  
  
"Boromir?" he whispered. "Is that you?" He felt the energy expand and surround him strongly in it's presence. Remembering the few seconds from the time of his birthing, Legolas opened his eyes in desperate hope, but he saw nothing in the dark, uncaring chamber. "Boromir?" he whimpered aloud. "Don't go. Don't leave me. I need you."  
  
Immediately, he felt a wave of love and protectiveness engulf him. It was like being hugged, except that it was not just his torso that felt it: every cell in his body was being embraced by the ghostly presence. He felt the breath of a touch against his cheek, as if the spirit were trying to wipe away his tears with a disembodied hand, but the faint touch only made him weep even harder.  
  
"I cant feel you, I cant see you. Why did you go?" he wept. "Why aren't you here with me!"  
  
But I am here with you. The barest suggestion of a thought sounded itself in his head, an echo of a voice felt but not heard. An echo of a voice never to be heard again by any living thing on the face of the earth.  
  
"No! No you're not! I need you! I can't see you," he said wretchedly, his voice just the barest whisper of a sound.  
  
You're looking with your eyes. Look with your heart.  
  
Legolas dried his eyes and tried to open his heart, but it hurt him too much to do so. "I cant," he whispered, his hands clutching his chest painfully. "I cant!" He felt the hopelessness return to haunt him, but sheer need made him push it aside. "I'm trying!" he cried, his eyes rolling back with effort. "I'm trying, but I cant do it!"  
  
He felt a warmth surround his heart, somehow making him feel safe and loved. Taking a deep breath, he tried one more time. He opened his eyes.  
  
And he could see.  
  
He saw the ghost of an image kneeling in front of him, in the centre of what was the barest hint of golden light, and he could just barely make out the man's features as Boromir looked mournfully into his face. When he leaned forward to kiss Legolas, the elf felt just the barest breath of a touch against his lips.  
  
At the faintness of the touch, Legolas felt his eyes fill with tears once again. "You're not here," he wept, referring to the man's presence in the physical plain. "You're not here, you're not here, you're not here. I need you here with me, but you're not!"  
  
No. I'm not. I've died.  
  
"No!"  
  
But it's true. You know it to be true. I shouldn't even be here. It hurts to enter your world, Legolas. But it hurts me even more to see you suffer. And so I do.  
  
With those words, Legolas felt a wave of the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced sweep over him, and knew it for the pain Boromir had mentioned.  
  
I love you  
  
"Don't leave me!" Legolas called out in panic as he felt the presence slowly start to fade. "No, you cant! Don't leave me! Boromir! Don't leave me! Please don't leave! You can't leave. Not now."  
  
It hurts  
  
"Help me! I cant do this."  
  
You must  
  
"No, I cant. Boromir, I cant. Let me go with you."  
  
You must be strong. You must live for our son.  
  
"But he's dead. You're dead, he's dead, you're both dead, and you've both left me. I can't do this alone."  
  
He's still with you. You've kept him with you all these years. Just the way you've kept me with you. He's still there, watching you, learning from you. You didn't allow him to leave, Legolas. You've kept him with you all this time. You must let him go.  
  
"No," he whimpered. "I can't. I can't. I need him."  
  
He felt Boromir turn once more into a smoky presence and embrace him like a cloud, and filled him completely with such unconditional love that Legolas wept uncontrollably. "Meleth-nin," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've let you down."  
  
//No. No, you haven't Legolas. I'm so proud of you. You're such a wonderful person, Legolas. Remember that. But you must let go. You must let us go. You cannot move on until you have let us go. Oh, Legolas, I don't want to see you suffer anymore. Please, you must set yourself free.\\  
  
"NO!" Legolas screamed. "No, I cant! No, Boromir, no! I cant do that! I cant, I cant! I cant do that, Boromir. You cant force me. You cant. You cant. I cant do it. Please, don't make me do it, Boromir, I cant. I cant, I'm sorry, I cant. Ai, Elbereth, help me. Boromir, I cant, I'm so sorry, I cant. I cant. I cant. I'm so sorry, I cant. I cant. Boromir, please, don't."  
  
A wave of sadness, and of guilt.  
  
"Don't leave me," he whispered again, suddenly frightened. "I need you," he said again and again with every breath he exhaled. "I need you. I need you. I need you."  
  
Again, he felt a wave of love, but this time it was mingled with sadness and pain, so intense that at length, Legolas felt himself come to a decision. He was hurting them. His inability to let go was hurting all three of them. For the sakes of those he loved, he had to move on.  
  
"I don't know how," he whispered. "And even if I did, I don't know if I'm strong enough. Help me."  
  
Again, the wave of love, and of bursting pride and confidence in Legolas. It reassured him somewhat, that Boromir believed in him. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to think of Oremir, to relive every moment of his son's unbearably short life.  
  
He remembered his own denial when he first discovered his pregnancy right up till the time of the birth, and was plagued with shame and regret. Oh, how he should have rejoiced when he knew! How he should have cherished every second of time he had with his son! How could he have been so blind, so ashamed. How he regretted it. If only he had the chance to go back and change the past, and show the child how crazy his father was over him..... as it was, Oremir never even knew the truth..... if only he had done things differently..... if only he had cherished his son when he still had the chance... "I'm so stupid," he whispered. "I am so, so stupid," he wept.  
  
But still Boromir reassured him, gently supporting him while he revisited the most painful moments of his recent past. He remembered giving Oremir away when the child was barely four days old. He had thought it was for the best. He had hoped his son would be happier in a proper family, with two loving parents to care for him, he truly did. And the Ithilien couple adored Oremir, they did, they did. They loved Oremir to bits. But what if he had decided against giving his son away? Perhaps Oremir might have been happier with him. Perhaps Oremir would still be alive today. It was all his fault! All his fault! If only he hadn't been so afraid of being found out! If only he hadn't been so selfish!  
  
Unable to face his thoughts any longer, Legolas curled up and shook. "Go away," he whispered to Boromir. "Go away, go AWAY! I don't deserve your kindness. I'm evil. I'm so evil. I'm an evil person. I don't deserve your love. Oremir, I'm sorry. Oh, my son, my son..... what have I done..... Go away, Boromir, leave me, I don't deserve your kindness. I let you down. I've let you all down. It's all my fault. I let everyone down."  
  
Against his will, the image of Oremir lying on his deathbed rose before his eyes. Oremir cold and lifeless. Oremir with his skin rubbed raw. Oremir with his abdomen ripped across. Oremir with his guts spilling out. He imagined his son's last waking moments..... Oremir's panic as he fell from his horse, Oremir's terror as the boar attacked him, the pain Oremir must have felt, the absolute horror of being ripped apart by a wild animal..... He imagined the horrified look on the boy's face, his screams, his desperation.....  
  
"Why didn't anyone help him!" Legolas cried to the world. "Why didn't anyone do anything! Why wasn't I there! I should have been there. I should have been there for him. He called out for me. They told me they called out for me, but I wasn't there! Why? WHY! Why couldn't I have been there.....I might have made a difference. I might have stopped it. At least I might have held him as he died. At least he wouldn't have doed thinking that he was alone. At least he would have died knowing I love him. Why? WHY? WHY!!!!  
  
"It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. I wasn't there when he needed me. It's all my fault! How can I ever live with it? It should have been me who died. It *should* have been me who died. He was so young, Boromir. It should have been me. Why couldn't it have been me? I couldn't even be there for my son. What sort of parent am I? I don't deserve to live."  
  
But again Boromir spoke to him. Oremir is watching, the presence said. He's watching you now, and he's so unhappy. He doesn't want you to blame yourself. He doesn't want his Ada to be sad. He knows you love him, and he loves you..... so very much, Legolas..... and it hurts him to see you so miserable. He loves you, Legolas. All he wants is to see you happy. Don't you want your son to be happy, Legolas? Seeing you happy will give him great joy.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and took great deep shuddering breaths in an effort to calm himself. "I don't know how," he said at last. "Show me how to let go. Show me what to do. I cant live this way anymore. It's killing me."  
  
He felt the cloud grow warm and dense, and fill him with love and energy. //Oremir, my son, \\ the thought that was not his sounded in his own head, stronger than ever.  
  
"Oremir, my son," Legolas repeated, instinctively following Boromir's lead.  
  
//I love you.\\  
  
"I love you."  
  
//I've always loved you, and I always will.\\  
  
"I've always loved you, and I always will."  
  
//And I'm sorry,\\  
  
"And I'm sorry."  
  
//But I cant grieve for you any longer.\\  
  
"I cant..... grieve....." he trailed off as he collapsed once more into tears. And Boromir let him cry. He knew how much Legolas needed to shed those tears. More than anything, he needed to release his pain before it claimed him completely. Finally, Legolas took a deep breath and continued. "I'm sorry..... but I cant grieve for you any longer."  
  
//Forgive me.\\  
  
"Forgive me."  
  
//We both have our own paths to follow, and I can't keep you with me any longer.\\  
  
"We both have our own paths to follow, and I can't keep you with me any longer."  
  
//Forgive me any wrongs I have done you. I was only trying my best.\\  
  
"Forgive me..... any..... any..... Boromir, I cant do this!" he moaned, and covered his face. "I cant, Boromir, I cant. I wasn't! I didn't. I was so selfish. I was so afraid of being found out. Boromir, no....."  
  
//Forgive me any wrongs I have done you. I was only trying my best.\\ the voice that spoke in his head was gentle and warm.  
  
"Forgive me any wrongs I have done you. I was only trying me best."  
  
//I've only ever wanted you to be happy.\\  
  
"I've only..... ever..... wanted..... you to be..... happy." Legolas gasped. He was having difficulty breathing.  
  
//And so I release you now.\\  
  
"And so I release you now."  
  
//I love you, and I release you, and I set you free.\\  
  
"I love you, and I release you, and I set you free." Legolas bowed his head and took a deep breath. A sudden calm filled him, as did a strange sense of completion. "And so it is," he whispered, then looked searchingly at Boromir's image. The spirit nodded with quiet strength. "And so it is."  
  
Legolas wept for awhile, safe in Boromir's ghostly embrace as he slowly came to terms with himself. What he had just done was right. It was best for everyone, and he knew that in his heart. It was difficult, but it had to be done. Just like what he was about to do next had to be done.  
  
"Boromir," he whispered. "Meleth-nin..... I cant rely on you forever. I've held you back for too long. I need to let you go, I know that now, but..... I'm not sure I can. I don't think I'm strong enough."  
  
He saw Boromir emerge from the cloud and assume his bodily shape once more. He knelt before Legolas and looked sadly into his lover's eyes. //You don't have to do this, Legolas. Not yet. I can wait until you're ready. You know I'll always wait for you.\\  
  
"It'll hurt you."  
  
//I love you\\  
  
The elf nodded, and sobbing convulsively, he raised his hands to cup the ghostly face. "I know," he whispered. "And I need you so much. But I can't hold you back. I can't hurt you anymore. I just can't. I love you too much. But if I don't do this now, I'll never have the courage to do it, ever again. I need you to be free so that I can be free."  
  
The form before him wavered and dissolved back into a misty presence that surrounded him completely. Again, Legolas remembered the voice that echoed in his heart. //I'll always be there for you.\\ He had heard it for many years now, as a soft whispering at the back of his subconscious whenever a situation threatened to overwhelm him, and now he finally knew it's source. //I'll always be there for you.\\  
  
"No, you can't," he whispered, suddenly certain. "You cant. As long as you are, I'll never be strong. I need to reclaim my independence again. I've denied myself my strength for so long, but I'll never be whole again until I reclaim what I made myself loose," he said. "I know what I have to do..... but I'm afraid."  
  
Calm yourself, the voice murmured, and Legolas felt the barest brush of lips against his ears. I will wait as long as it takes, it said.  
  
And so Legolas sat and wept and relived the short time they spent together. He remembered their first meeting, their first kiss, their first coupling..... remembered how surreal his lover looked bathed in the moonlight, the soft musky scent of his body, the solidarity of the man's physique, his strength, his size, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his coppery fringe tumbled across his eyes, the texture of his hair ..... his thoughts then turned to their other matters. He remembered their arguments in Rivendell, the first of many quarrels they had gotten themselves into..... remembered all the harsh words that were exchanged..... recalled the scathing remarks they had thrown at one another.....  
  
"No....." he moaned softly. "Don't make me remember..... you cant make me remember. it hurts too much to remember," he said, but still he forced himself to confront his memories.  
  
He remembered the day of Boromir's death. They had just had another argument, that day. They were always arguing. Always. But things had gotten so bad that time that Legolas had given up on them ever working things through, and in his hurt he had said some words he had instantly regretted. Something along the lines of ending it..... something along the lines of wishing Boromir out of his life forever..... something along the lines of cursing Boromir would just die and leave him alone. Boromir had stormed off, and angry as he was, Legolas had been too stubborn to look for him, even though he sensed the danger.  
  
He had.  
  
He had.  
  
He had know, but he didn't do anything about it.  
  
"I didn't mean it," he whispered. "I didn't mean what I say. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean for you to run off like that. I didn't mean for you to get killed."  
  
He remembered the paralyzing horror that coursed like ice through his veins when he had heard the mournful cry of Boromir's horn. Oh, his pride, his pride, his accursed pride! It had cost him everything he loved! It would have been so easy to have just apologised, but instead he had let Boromir walk out like that..... he was so stupid!  
  
He had remembered running into the clearing as his lover lay dying. He had remembered how he was too overcome to react, how his limbs betrayed him when he most needed the use of them. All he could do was stare, blinking stupidly from afar as Boromir breathed his last. How could he ever forgive himself for that?  
  
Forgive yourself, the voice said. It wasn't your fault. You cannot count yourself responsible for the fate of the world. It is beyond you, Legolas. It was meant to happen. The quest could not have succeeded otherwise. Either way, I'm not elfkind. I would have died hereafter. And you would have been heartbroken all the same.  
  
And Legolas had to laugh. He threw back his head and laughed helplessly, choking and spluttering on his tears, then covered his face again and wept. "I love you, Boromir, and I always, always will..... Ai, Elbereth, I don't want to let you go! What will happen to me if I do?" He closed his eyes and groaned, but at length, a quiet peace decended upon him. It was time now. It was time to let go.  
  
"Forgive me..... my dearest love..... I never meant to hold you back. I never meant to hurt you. I never realised how I've kept you with me, and how painful it is for you. But now I do. I do. And I'll be alright. You don't have to watch over me. You have your own path to follow, and I cant hold you back any longer. I love you so much. Too much..... to keep you here...."  
  
He shut his eyes and let his fear and apprehension claim him. He knew he could ride it out. It was like his labour, in a strange sort of way. He knew that nothing would be achieved by denying it, or by fighting it. It would not go away if he did, and that the best way out would be for him to surrender himself to the pain. Only then could he learn. Only then could he let go.  
  
But oh, it hurt! It hurt so much..... he felt like he was dying, like all his insides were being cruelly ripped out of him. How could he survive without Boromir as his source of strength? How could he carry on living with that awful abysm in his heart?  
  
"I release you, Boromir," he whispered. "I set you free." He looked up and smiled at Boromir's concerned face. "You don't have to worry about me anymore. You're not answerable for me. You're not responsible for my well being. You don't have to be. I can take care of myself now. I don't need you..... to protect me any longer."  
  
Are you sure, the voice asked.  
  
"Yes. I know I am strong enough. I know I can pull through this. Be at peace now, son of Gondor. I have kept you too long from it."  
  
And with a last swirling of emotion, Boromir was gone.  
  
Legolas wept for awhile, grieving once more for the loss of his lover, letting the icy cold of loneliness creep into his heart. Already he missed him. Already he wished he had not let him go. But to keep him here by his side would have denied the man his peace, and Legolas wept the tears of a man so dependant on his walking stick that he had forgotten how to stand without it.  
  
Slowly, shakily, Legolas rose to his feet. This was it then. His walking stick had been taken away from him. He only hoped that he would not fall for the lack of it.  
  
Suddenly weak, he collapsed heavily against the wall, but still he fought to regain the use of his feet. He would pull through this. He knew he would. He had to.  
  
Stumbling a little with the effort, he made his way painfully out of the wondering labyrinth and emerged at last into the crisp night air. All around him, the sounds of silence reigned. Soon, the dawn would break, and the peoples would rise to go about the business of the day, but for now, the whole city slept.  
  
A brisk breeze picked up and Legolas turned his face to feel it's welcoming caress. The chill bit at his nose and cheeks, painting them a rosy red, but the cold did not bother him in the least. There was one last thing he needed to do. Closing his eyes, he raised his arms in surrender to the mother earth and all her elements.  
  
"I release myself," he whispered, "and I set myself free."  
  
And for the first time in years, he felt calm and at peace, knowing that the people he loved most had found their peace. His son and his lover were finally free-- he had not even known that he had held them back all this time-- and Eowyn had relearned and rediscovered her inner strength. In the east, the first glimmers of light stirred against the swirling grey of dawn. A new day was dawning. Legolas smiled.  
  
It was to be the first day of the rest of his life.  
  
________________________________________  
  
________________________________________  
  
Okay. That was it. Life. *takes deep breath* Erm, yeah. Final chapter. You see, I'm not *that* evil right? *blink, blink*. Okay, so well, maybe I am.  
  
On a litghter note, here's a bit of blatant self-promotion. I will be starting on two new fics sometime late April after my exams, a YuGiOh fic and a LoTR fic. The YGO one will be basically a short continuation of 'Kiss Me Quickly' cos I really didn't like the ending. Many loose ends to tie up.  
  
The LoTR one is going to be a rather dark, nasty piece tentatively to be called 'Grim Tales of a Faraway Land'. It's post war, perhaps on the day of Aragorn's marriage. Some characters get sucked into an alternate universe and take on multiple fairytale roles. I haven't decided much. Probably will star Faramir, Boromir, Eowyn (the three of them HAVE to come as a package cos of the dynamic between them), and the Aragorn & Arwen package. There will be bits of Legolas, tho he wont appear till much later. I'm hoping to boarder Grim Tales on horror, but I cant write horror for nuts so I'll settle for blood and angst. Bright red blood. Muahaha.  
  
I also have an account at adultfanfiction.net, but I haven't done anything with it yet. I'll probably be uploading some of my completed stuff around May as well, and the Grim Tales might just be posted under adultfanfiction cos there are elements of violence and rape, and ff.net might just flip on me if it tried it here. So check it out in May!  
  
Well, I've said it once and I'll say it again, thanks for staying this far. It's been great. You guys rock!  
  
Hugs, fazy 


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